


Hi Hungry, I'm Dad

by kaybdrabbles



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Autistic Papyrus, Babybones, Backstory, Big Brother Sans, Body Horror, Bullying, Cinnamon Roll Papyrus, Dubious Science, Eye Trauma, Family, Fluff, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, Memory Loss, Pre-Canon, Protective Sans, Sick Character, Younger Brother Papyrus, puns, suicide discussion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2018-10-22 04:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 96,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10689384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaybdrabbles/pseuds/kaybdrabbles
Summary: Two lost, sick skeleton children walk into a bar.Grillby wishes there was a punchline.





	1. Feelin' Bonely?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I haven't written a fanfiction in awhile so I'm kinda learning everything again haha. This is inspired by all the adorable babybones/found family fics I've been reading, but with what I think to be an interesting and unique twist. There is definitely some tropes inspired by other stories too, and I'm sure you can pick up on those fairly quickly. I've written a few chapters and I had it outlined past that, but I want to focus on original works so I don't know if I'll continue - however, the end of what I've written does complete an arc and somewhat works as a standalone (albeit with room for more answers) so I'm posting it now as is. And who knows? Maybe I'll revisit it later? Until then I'm going to take some time uploading what I have so far.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

“(Grillby...are you lonely?)”  


The question took the fire elemental by surprise. One minute the Dogi were talking Royal Guard business, the next, his personal life. He looked up from the keg he was wiping clean and slowly peered over at the rest of his bar, which was packed to the brim with the usuals, then back at the two dogs. If he had eyebrows - or even eyes for that matter - one of them would have been raised, challenging the couple to refute his unspoken answer.

“...that isn’t what she meant,” Dogamy clarified.

Grillby shrugged and went back to cleaning the glass. “Fuku calls once a week.”

“(But you are all by yourself in that big house, and even then you spend all day here at the bar!)” Dogaressa pressed, “(It’s only been a few months since-)”

The conversation was mercifully interrupted by hysteric screaming from the other side of the room. Perfect timing.

Grillby set the glass on the counter and walked toward the commotion, eager to perform whatever bartenderly duties were required of him. Breaking up a fight. Lending a friendly ear to someone’s secret drunken woes. Helping a patron to the bathroom who had downed one too many and cleaning up their mess when they missed their target. Anything, really, was better than the conversation trail Dogaressa wanted to travel down.

He passed by the other bargoers, narrowly squeezing past the two heavily armored dogs seated nearest to the counter, and made his way to the ever-growing sounds of distress. It didn’t take long to find their source. Bunnette was splayed on the floor next to her usual booth, eyes looking a tad dizzier than normal. Grillby knew she couldn’t be too drunk - he tended to water down her orders once she started to hit her limit - but the way she flailed her arms and legs around worried him slightly.

“Not again! N-noooot a-a-agaaain-n-n!!” She cried, flopping around more as her volume increased. “E-Earthquaaake!!”

Oh. That explained it. Yesterday morning a sudden and unexplained earthquake rocked the Underground. No monster had been seriously hurt and there was only minor structural damage near the epicenter in Hotland, but the seismic activity had everyone a little on edge as of late. Every monster was talking about the event, the bar abuzz with theories about its cause and the likelihood of an aftershock, if it would bring the very ceiling down on top of them, etc. It wasn’t enough that they were trapped down here, now they were in danger of the very earth itself turning against them. That anxiety plus the effects of alcohol was not a good combination.

Grillby knelt down beside her and took one of her hands in his, rubbing it softly. She stopped yelling at the touch and blinked, looking up at him with a confused expression. Little by little the tremors in her body calmed until she was left there lying still on the bar floor.

“It's over,” he reassured softly. “You’re safe.”

Once she seemed subdued enough, Grillby helped her to her feet. Almost immediately she wobbled. He kept his grip on her hand, trying to assist her in regaining her bearings. Unfortunately it seemed like a larger problem than simple momentary disorientation. No wonder she had convinced herself that there was another earthquake happening right now. Bunnette hiccupped loudly, mumbling some drunken attempt at a seduction about Grillby being so strong and reliable. He winced at the unwanted attention. It might be a bit early to call it, but the bartender figured it was about time for her to go home and sleep this off.

“I can take it from here.”

Grillby turned to see Audrey beside him. The mouth monster had shuffled his way over, looking down at Bunnette with pursed lips. They were neighbors and occasional drinking buddies. As such, this was far from the first time that he had had to escort his inebriated friend home.

The elemental was about to hand her over to Audrey when movement from the front windows caught his attention. The wind had picked up steadily, making it look like start of a wintry hurricane outside. He stared at it hesitantly, wondering if it was best to let them leave in this condition.

Audrey seemed to sense the internal deliberation. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her back safe.” As if to prove his point he unhinged his jaw and skillfully used his tongue to grab Bunnette and secure her inside of his cheek. It was a bizarre sight to be sure but one that Grillby was oddly accustomed to, having seen this method of carrying on a regular basis.

After another moment of thought Grillby relented. He led the two of them over to the door and held it open. Audrey hobbled out, nodding in farewell. He separated his lips enough apart for a furry arm to peek out between the teeth and wave. The gesture was quickly followed by a muffled hiccup. Grillby watched them leave, keeping the door ajar to indicate that maybe it was time for everyone else to be on their way as well.

The other monsters picked up on the hint. Slowly and somewhat begrudgingly they all gathered their belongings and made their way out to brave the walk home. The Dogi were the last to leave, trailing behind the rest of the canine patrol.

“(Good night, Grillby.)” Dogaressa smiled, pulling up her hood.

“Hopefully all that earthquake business is taken care of. If you feel any tremors, however, feel free to hide under a desk. Or a dog house,” Dogamy added.

“(I think the bar counter would work well enough.)” Dogaressa paused. “(I assume you are going to spend the night here?)”

It wasn’t exactly uncommon knowledge that Grillby had been sleeping over at the bar lately. The spare room in the back was comfortable enough, and he would rather stay put than risk his core temperature reaching dangerous levels. Grillby had multiple layers of clothes for outdoor use and magical defense if he had to go out in these circumstances, but he preferred waiting it out. It wasn’t like he had anything to go home to anyways.

Grillby nodded.

“(Well, if you need something - if you ever need anything - feel free to call us.)” Dogaressa asked. “(We’re only a bark away if you want some company!)”

Grillby didn’t understand where all this sudden concern came from, but he would be lying if he said their friendship wasn’t deeply appreciated. She worried because she cared, even if there was nothing to worry about in the first place. In many ways it was endearing. Yet, somehow, it made him a bit uncomfortable. He tried to ignore the feeling.

Once the bar was clear of patrons, Grillby got to work on his closing duties. He turned the lights off to save electricity; his own glow was enough for him to see. Tables and booths were disinfected and wiped down thoroughly, and money left behind was collected. He had a strict payment policy: you had two weeks to pay your dues or you were banned from his establishment. Considering he was the only real restaurant in Snowdin no one dared incur his financial wrath. Alcohol was hard to find and even harder to brew, and the utilities for the bar plus his house wasn’t exactly cheap either. At least heating never was an issue, what with the unlimited source of fire and all, but that only got rid of some of the bills. There wouldn’t be any longstanding tabs in his bar as long as he could help it.

A distinct odor near the dogs’ regular table made Grillby stop in his tracks. He recognized that smell. Recognized it all too well. Doggo knew better than to smoke treats in the bar. The stench hung in the air for hours and, if not treated properly and quickly, could seep into the woodwork. The last thing Grillby wanted was his restaurant to smell like a dog treat den. Families often came for lunch or early dinner, and they would not be too happy about that tell-tale flavor in the air.

He let out a crackling sigh and marched back through the fire exit. Passing the kitchen, which needed to be cleaned as well, Grillby slipped into the small closet next to the entrance of the spare room. The rest of his cleaning supplies were kept there, and he was going to need quite a bit of odor eliminator to get rid of that smell. It took him a moment to locate what he needed. The earthquake had made a mess of his organized supplies, and with all of the prep work to open today he hadn’t had the time to tidy it back up. Something else to get to tonight, he supposed.

He finally found the de-odorizer and was about to grab it when he heard the creak of the bar door opening, followed by it slamming suddenly and hushed whispers. Grillby froze. Snowdin was such a quiet place, he had never bothered much with locking the place up after hours. Everyone here knew each other, almost to the point of basically being a large extended family. That didn’t rule out the occasional rebellious teenager trying to make trouble, though, or worse; another human had fallen.

Instead of taking the cleaning product, Grillby’s fingers curled around the bat hanging on the wall. He rolled up his sleeves and took in a breath. After a moment of composing himself he turned, heading out the way he came. His grip tightened on the weapon, prepared for whatever he would find in his bar.

Or so he thought.

Standing in the middle of the bar were two young skeleton monsters, dressed more appropriately for a day in the sun than the current snowstorm raging outside. They started upon seeing Grillby, the taller one pushing the shorter one behind him. That didn’t stop the shorter one from peeking out his head, a ratty red blanket held close to his chest in glove-covered hands. At least that was weather appropriate, but it didn’t seem to count for much. Their clothes were soaked through, and even from this distance Grillby could see the two of them shaking uncontrollably. Whether it was from the cold or fear, he wasn’t sure. He hoped it was the latter.

“...uh...sorry, we, um...we saw the lights were out so we thought this place was empty,” the taller one explained. His mouth seemed frozen in a permanent grin as he spoke, broad and a hint unnerving, especially in the low light. On the other hand, his eyes were the definition of expressive, flitting around nervously while the tops of his sockets creased down, giving off the impression of a furrowed brow. “we’ll just be going now."

“B-BUT...BUT, SANS!”

Grillby flinched at the unwarranted volume. It was as if the shorter one was projecting his voice to someone standing on the other side of the room instead of right next to him, but the taller one - Sans - didn’t seem bothered by the loudness at all, as if he was used to it.

“told you already, bro - we don’t have any butts. y’know? we’re skeletons.” He rattled off the joke with ease, but there was an underlying tenseness in his tone.

“UGH, SANS!! DON’T DO-” Any further objections were cut off by a wet coughing fit that lasted too long for Grillby’s comfort. Sans watched with wide eyes, looking more and more concerned as it went on, but obviously at a loss as to what to do. And then, with a loud sniff, it was done. The shorter skeleton regained his composure, cocking his head and pointing at Grillby. “ARE YOU PLAYING BASEBALL?”

Grillby was confused at first, but then he looked down. Right. The bat. He had forgotten he still had it in his grasp. Sans was eyeing it with particularly strong intent, and no doubt it was the cause for most of the tension in the room. Grillby shook his head and slowly placed the bat under the counter of the bar. He had hoped this would be a sign of goodwill, but Sans still stared at him with an air of distrust.

“...aaaanyways, we really need to get going...c’mon, papyrus.” Sans tugged on his brother’s hand.

“Wait!” Grillby reached out. He had no idea who these kids are, what they were doing, why there were here alone, but he did know that they looked like they needed help. Not only that, but if they were as sick as they appeared, going back out into that storm could dust them. He couldn’t let them leave.

“sorry, but, uh, we really aren’t supposed to talk to strangers,” Sans shrugged. And Grillby supposed, in most situations, the kid had a point.

He paused, then pointed to the boys. “Sans. Papyrus.” Then he turned his finger toward himself. “And I’m Grillby. So we aren’t strangers.”

Papyrus’ sockets widened. “WOWIE, SANS...HE KNOWS US!”

Sans looked like he wanted to argue that point but he kept quiet, seemingly admitting defeat, too tired and honestly too desperate at this point to refuse free help. Grillby, on the other hand, did everything in his power not to cringe at how easy it was to convince the younger child to trust him. If it had been anyone with malicious intent, who knows what could have happened. It made him all the more curious about why these boys were alone at night in a community where everyone knows everything that’s happening. And skeletons visiting would have been quite the talk of the town. In fact, last Grillby had heard, it was rumored that skeleton monsters were all but extinct.

He gestured to the seats at the counter. “Hungry?”

Papyrus gasped and wriggled out of Sans’ hold, clambering up onto the stool, setting the blanket on his lap. He turned when he noticed his brother wasn’t following after him. “C’MON SANS! AREN’T YOU HUNGRY TOO?”

Grillby could practically see the cogs running in Sans’ head as he deliberated on what to do. Finally the boy shrugged and made his way over to the seat next to his sibling. “depends on the food. can’t handle anything spicy. i don’t have the stomach for it.”

“NYEH! SANS, I ALREADY TOLD YOU! STOP!” Papyrus huffed indignantly, shoving his gloved hands onto his hips. “THIS IS NO TIME FOR PUNS.”

“guess i’ll have to wait for pun o’clock then…”

“SANS!!”

They kept at it while Grillby walked into the kitchen. Since they were sick he figured some canned chicken noodle soup would be best. It was hard to gauge how ill they were but as they still had the energy to argue over puns, swallowing some soup shouldn’t be that much harder. He found a can on the top shelf and started boiling the water, setting aside two bowls and spoons in preparation. Considering he had the time, and a watched pot never boils, he contemplated how to handle the situation. Getting some food and warmth in them seemed to be most important, and hopefully he would be able to ask some questions about how they got here. They could sleep in the spare room while he took the couch, and he would call Dogaressa first thing in the morning to help get them back where they belonged. Ideally he would have called tonight but it was late and the storm was getting worse every second.

It didn’t take long for the soup to finish. Grillby pulled on his oversized rubber gloves and poured out a small portion for each, not wanting them to eat too much too quickly. Monster food might not digest like human food, but a monster stomach could still reject the magic when sick. He would like to avoid that if possible. After making sure his arms were properly covered by the gloves he carefully returned to the bar with both bowls in tow.

The boys’ eyes lit up immediately upon seeing the food, Papyrus slurping down a spoonful as soon as his bowl hit the counter. They ate like they hadn’t touched a morsel in days, but held the utensils deftly enough to be familiar with their use. If it wasn’t for that, Grillby would have pegged them for homeless kids trying to live off the streets. Sans surely had the potential streetwise nature, what with his attempts at distancing himself from Grillby, but Papyrus was far too innocent. Too trusting. No, there had to be more to their story than that.

“You aren’t from Snowdin?” Grillby asked, figuring it was as good a time as any to start getting some answers. They seemed to be reacting to the food well, their demeanor lightening and their shaking diminishing greatly - though Sans was faring better in that regard.

“WE LIVE IN THE UNDERGROUND!” Papyrus announced proudly.

Sans snickered. “hotland, to be more specific. a little different from here, if you catch my snow-drift.” He gestured toward the window, where the snow was piling up considerably.

“YEAH! THERE ISN’T SO MUCH ICE CREAM LYING AROUND AT HOME!”

Grillby wasn’t really sure what that last bit meant, and Sans didn’t offer an explanation right away. Instead he picked up his bowl and downed the rest of its contents in a single gulp. After letting out a content sigh he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, which made Papyrus cringe in disgust.

“dad’s busy a lot, with his important job ‘n all, so we have to stay near his work. pap hadn’t even left hotland before till now,” Sans explained. “but we got lost. there was an accident back home and somehow we got here.”

“Lost?” Grillby repeated.

“yeah. we’ve been trying to find our way back for uh...two days now, maybe? we’re not worried or anything, though. dad’ll come get us!”

Grillby turned to Papyrus to see if he had anything to add, only to find that the skeleton had grown oddly still. He held his spoon frozen in mid bite, looking away from Sans uncomfortably. His free hand was clenching and unclenching the blanket in his lap. Grillby was about to ask if anything was wrong when the spoon clattered noisily to the counter. Papyrus was having a coughing attack again, far worse than last time. His brother held out a hand to keep him steady, looking up at Grillby with pleading eyes. The sight broke the fire elemental’s heart.

He didn’t waste any time, scooping up Papyrus over the counter and into his arms, blanket and all. Stars, the child felt so cold. Grillby rubbed Papyrus’s back, hoping his magical heat could put some warmth back into his bones where the soup didn’t. With the boy in tow he made his way to the kitchen, Sans following right behind. There was a cabinet above the sink that held some various kitchen supplies, but most importantly, medicine. Usually he only needed a mild painkiller for a patron’s headache, or some antibiotic cream in case of a cut or scrape. Near the top, though, he knew there was some cough medicine.

Too near the top, actually. The cabinet, along with most everything else in the room, was designed for someone much taller than Grillby. He could see the medicine in question but his fingers just barely scraped the edge of the shelf. An easy solution would be setting Papyrus down and climbing onto the counter, since Sans would be too short even with the counter below him. Just as the thought crossed his mind, though, the younger skeleton leaned further into Grillby’s chest, coughs momentarily abated as he struggled to regulate his raspy breathing. Nope. Letting Papyrus out of his grasp was out of the question.

He knew there was a step-stool somewhere, rarely used. Turning, he scanned the area, hoping to find it quickly.

“got it!”

Grillby looked back, expecting to see Sans with the step-stool or some other means of reaching the cabinet. Instead he was greeted by the sight of the boy with the cough medicine in his hand, holding it out urgently. Grillby stared. How...how had Sans done that? He hadn't heard any noise to indicate that he had climbed the cabinet. In fact there was nothing to indicate that the child had even left where he was standing at all. The only thing that seemed different about him was a sudden shortness of breath and some sweat beading at his skull.

“Good job,” Grillby affirmed, not in the mood to question the turn of events. All that mattered was they had the medicine, and Papyrus could get it in his system quicker.

He lead Sans into the spare room where they all sat down on the bed, Papyrus curled atop Grillby’s lap. Sans poured out the medicine per Grillby’s instruction. The syrupy substance filled the small cap, an artificial sweetness emanating from it. Grillby could not guarantee it would taste good, but it should alleviate the cough until he could get a doctor to come in the morning - if the storm had finished by then that is. Papyrus made a face at the smell, but otherwise had no qualms as he drank it down. Grillby considered giving some to Sans too, but he hadn’t coughed once so far and seemed to be doing better. Although, upon closer inspection, Grillby could see the telltale signs of lack of sleep under the boy’s eye sockets. He looked like he could drop at any minute.

“Stay here tonight,” Grillby urged. “I’ll call the Guard tomorrow. They can help you.”

“BUT YOU’RE HELPING US NOW!” Papyrus insisted, his voice sounding raw from the coughing.

“...I’ll keep helping,” Grillby ensured. “We’ll find your dad.”

It was quiet for a moment. “...thanks, mr. grillby.” Sans looked up at him with misty eyes. Once again a pang of sympathy arced through the elemental. Two days. These kids had been lost for two days in Snowdin. How long had they been without food? Warmth? Someone to help them?

Grillby pulled back the sheets on the bed, placing Papyrus under the covers. Sans slid in beside his brother, sockets closing as his skull hit the pillow. Already asleep, no doubt. How much longer could he have gone if he hadn’t come into the bar? Grillby didn’t even want to think about the two falling asleep in the blizzard raging outside.

After watching them for a moment, Grillby headed back into the kitchen. He needed to take care of a few things before turning in himself for the night. If he was able to sleep at all, that was. Already he could feel his mind filling with endless thoughts. Questions. Lists. He had a feeling the bar would not be open tomorrow, not with everything that needed to be done. Still, completing all the normal closing tasks would keep him busy and not worrying about the situation. He could start with removing that dog treat stench at the Royal Guard’s table.

He turned and nearly jumped. “Papyrus!” He hissed, trying his best to keep the volume down for Sans’ sake. The younger skeleton stood in the doorway, blanket dragging behind him. “...are you okay?”

“I’M FINE.” He shuffled his weight from one foot to the next, as if he couldn’t quite keep still.

“Is Sans okay?”

“OH, HE’S SLEEPING. AS USUAL.” Papyrus looked a bit annoyed at that, but his furrowed brow quickly changed to something more concerned. “I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING.”

Grillby tilted his head.

“...MY BROTHER...HAS BEEN TELLING YOU SOME UNTRUTHS…” he said slowly, refusing to look at Grillby. “GOOD KIDS DON’T LIE, BUT HE’S NOT TRYING TO BE BAD. PLEASE DON’T BE MAD AT HIM.”

“I’m not mad,” Grillby replied, the now-too familiar feeling of confusion rising up in him. He couldn’t think of anything that the boy had said that was a blatant lie, but Papyrus was obviously convinced and it was weighing on him. “What did he lie about?”

The child froze, the blanket coming up to his mouth. His fingers picked at the frayed edges of the cloth. They stood there for a minute, the answer unwilling to come forward. Eventually, Papyrus gave in. He took a sharp breath, eyes dashing about until finally coming to a stop at Grillby.

“WE DON’T HAVE A DAD.”


	2. Nothing Kills a Fanfic like Too Much Exposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids explain what happened. No one is happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kind words and kudos so far!   
> And sorry this chapter is kind of an infodump - but its also the start of an investigation so I feel its kinda accurate?

The phone made a satisfying click as Grillby returned it to its base. He gave a long crackling sigh, leaning forward onto the bar counter. The call had gone just about as well as he had expected, and after about ten minutes of frantic yapping questions and exclamations - mostly from Dogaressa - Dogamy finally assured him that they would be on their way soon with a doctor in tow. It was reassuring to know they were coming, and that they were more than eager to lend a paw, but Grillby wasn’t in any shape prepared for the frenzy of excitement that the dogs would undoubtedly bring with them. He hadn’t heard Dogaressa this worked up in quite some time. That, plus the fact that he had hardly slept at all last night, made the upcoming events a tad daunting.

It would be worth it though. The kids needed help, and this was the best help he could give. He only wished he could do more.

A crashing sound from the spare room snapped Grillby alert. He wasted no time, dashing to the back. The bed was a rumpled mess, comforter and blankets strewn about on the mattress. One skeleton remained prone on the bed while the other was on the floor, thrashing against the sheets he was now tangled in.

Grillby kneeled down and started to free the child, but that only served to make him more frantic. Finally a skull popped out from the sea of cloth: Sans. He was breathing hard and fast, looking around at his surrounding confused, almost unseeing.

The fire elemental made a soft hushing noise and gently rubbed the boy’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re here.”

Sans blinked slowly and raised his eyelights up, as if seeing him for the first time. “…mr. grillby.”

“You’re here,” He repeated. Sans nodded distantly and rubbed at his sockets.

Grillby was about to pull the rest of the sheets off of the skeleton when Sans suddenly shot up. Limbs flailed wildly as he scrambled back up onto the bed, consequently dragging the twisted covers up with him. It took Grillby a moment to process the sudden movement. He stood up while Sans huddled next to his brother. The boy turned to Grillby, brows creased in trepidation.

“something…something is wrong with papyrus. he doesn’t like to sleep…especially not longer than me…” He paused, blinking rapidly.

Grillby looked over the younger boy. Papyrus didn’t appear to have moved once since he was put back to bed the night before. His cheekbones were a tad flushed, and his breaths rattled. The whole scene worried Grillby. Elementals, especially fire ones, did not get sick the way other monsters did. He kept basic medicine on hand at the bar for his patrons, but his knowledge on how to use them properly was severely limited. And for a skeleton? Did they have magic lungs? Why was the cold affecting them at all? These were things Grillby didn’t understand, and the lack of control was suffocating.

“…is he going to die?”

Sans’ voice was small but it rang through the room like a siren. For a moment they both remained silent, the weight of words coming from someone far too young bearing down on them.

“He needs rest,” Grillby finally said. “He’ll be fine.”

Sans nodded, still obviously anxious but there was also a sense of calm emanating from the boy. Grillby soon recognized what it was. Trust. Sans trusted Grillby. Trusted in what he said.

The doctor couldn’t come soon enough.

Grillby had enough. They both needed a distraction. “Breakfast?”

It took coaxing, some reminding that they would only be a room away from Papyrus, but in the end Grillby was able to convince Sans to come into the kitchen to get some food. The skeleton wasn’t very forthcoming with meal preferences - “whatever you’re bacon I’ll be good with” - but eggs seemed like the best option for now. Grillby grabbed two from the fridge and, after snapping his finger by the stove to turn on the burner, started scrambling them. The eggshells he kept in a bowl for later.

Once they were done he grabbed the plate of eggs and the eggshell bowl and set them on the counter. Sans sat down on a stool, reached for a fork, then stopped. “oh, uh…i forgot to tell you this, but i…kinda made a mess yesterday,” he admitted, not so much embarrassed as inconvenienced.

Grillby had no idea what Sans was talking about, but it wasn’t like most of what the brothers had told him was adding up anyways. “That’s alright.”

Sans pointed over to the stool next to him, the one he had sat in the night before. Grillby leaned over the bar counter to get a better look. The seat was bathed in soup, some of the broth splattered on the floor. The elemental stared at the display in confusion. He had gone back and cleaned some of the tables last night to take his mind off the situation, but he hadn’t even thought of wiping off this area; the children had been in clear view during dinner, and neither of them had spilled their soup. He returned his gaze to Sans, dumbfounded.

“well, y’see…” Sans shrugged. “i just can’t stomach my food.”

Grillby’s flames flickered lightly.

“…okay, okay. i know. heard that one before.” He shrugged. “anyways, its, uh…well its the truth. i literally have no stomach. skeleton, remember?”

Grillby turned to look at Papyrus’ seat. It was untouched. Almost immaculately clean.

Sans caught on. “pap is different. messes and him don’t really get along…at all. he uses magic to dissolve it. and, i mean, i could do that too, but i’m too much of a lazybones. dad never puts the effort in either.”

“It goes through you?” Grillby asked.

“yup. i’m nothing but bones after all!” He winked. “most monster food i can absorb normally but anything liquid…slips through the cracks.”

“Your clothes?”

“gets damp and smelly sometimes, but i don’t mind.”

Grillby suddenly was reminded that he put them to bed without changing their wet clothes last night. It hadn’t crossed his mind at the time; he was too preoccupied with getting them the rest they so desperately needed. Now knowing that Sans was soaked in soup as well…

He grabbed a towel from behind the bar and handed it to the boy.

“oh, uh…thanks.” Sans took the offering and clumsily shoved it in between his pants and the seat. That…wasn’t how Grillby had intended him to use it, but he supposed it worked.

They ate in silence. Grillby noted that Sans’ food disappeared as he put it up against his locked grin. He supposed it wasn’t too different to how he ate: all the eggshells burnt away as he brought them where his mouth would be. Normally he would eat something more substantive but honestly he was too on edge to handle anything else. Sans seemed the same way, pushing the eggs around and stealing quick glances toward the bedroom. While Grillby could do without the food, Sans needed to get more in his system.

Grillby pushed a bottle of ketchup towards him. “Here. It’ll taste better.”

Sans grabbed it and absently squirted the condiment onto his meal, still transfixed by the bedroom door. Everything changed, though, when he took a bite of the new creation. His eyelights lit up, looking down at his plate in wonder before promptly scarfing down the rest of the eggs. Grillby hadn’t expected that to work as well as it did, but he wasn’t going to complain. However, it might’ve worked too well. Sans took the ketchup bottle again and squeezed it all over his now-empty plate, apparently intent on consuming the condiment on its own.

Grillby was about to recommend Sans not go through with that when there was a loud knock at the door. He walked over and opened it, only to be nearly knocked over by Dogaressa. Dogamy yipped a quick apology as he entered after, followed by a bunny monster holding a large bag, no doubt the doctor that was promised. From the looks of it she was a relative of Bonny, the local shopkeeper. Grillby shut the door behind them, catching a quick glimpse of the fresh snow blanketing the ground before seeing to his guests.

Dogaressa had already made her way over to Sans, who was inspecting his conspicuously clean plate. “(Hello, little pup! You’re Sans, right?)”

“yup, that’s me.” Sans looked her over and his expression brightened. “you’re the royal guard!”

“Yes we are!” Dogamy affirmed.

“so you’re here to help us find our dad!?”

“(Of course, little pup! We just need to ask you a couple of questions and then we can start-)”

“…WHY ARE ALL OF YOU MAKING SUCH A RACKET?”

Everyone turned at once to see Papyrus standing in the doorway to the kitchen, swaying a bit on his feet. He looked so small and fragile, blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon. Sans jumped off of his seat and swept his brother into his arms. He was just tall enough to hold the younger skeleton a few inches above the ground.

“hey pap. how ya feelin’?” He asked, snuggling him close.

“AWFUL,” Papyrus croaked out.

“you slept in later than i did, you lazybones.”

“I KNOW, AND I HATE IT!” He curled into himself and started coughing again, though much softer than last night, to Grillby’s relief. Even Sans didn’t seem as concerned as he was before.

Taking that as a cue, the bunny monster approached the two of them. “Hi, boys. I’m Dr. Cottontail.”

Sans adjusted the way he was holding his brother and then cocked his head to the side. “so you’re a scientist?”

“What? Oh, no, no. I’m not that kind of doctor. I’m a healer.” She got down on her knees. “I heard you guys spent some time out in the snow the last few days. Made you cold, huh?”

“F-FREEZING!” Papyrus informed adamantly.

“chilled to the bone,” Sans added.

Papyrus let out a small groan.

“So I need to make sure we get all of the cold out of you,” She turned to Papyrus, opening up her bag as she did. “Is it okay if I check you first?”

Papyrus looked at her curiously and then nodded.

“Alright! Why don’t we sit down over here and do some tests, ok?” Sans reluctantly let his brother down, and Dr. Cottontail led him over to one of the stools. He seemed intrigued by her bag, and she was quick to take out some of her instruments and explain them to him.

“We can ask our questions over here.” Dogamy laid a paw down on the dog patrol’s usual table. Sans shuffled over and seated himself, prompting the Dogi and Grillby to do the same.

In a sense, Grillby felt a bit out of place at the table. He wasn’t in the guard, he had no responsibility or privilege to be here. And yet, he was compelled. Something deep ached in his soul every time he looked at one of these boys. He needed to know what happened to them. He needed to know how he could help. He looked over at Dogamy and Dogaressa, half expecting them to tell him to leave. But they hardly paid him any mind, obviously fine with him sitting in on this.

“(Well then, let’s get started!)” Dogaressa pulled out a notebook and pencil from her cloak pocket. “(Dearie?)”

“Right! First thing’s first,” Dogamy began, “What is your full name?”

“sans.”

“…that’s your full name?” Dogamy raised a brow skeptically.

“uh…sans…the skeleton?” he offered.

The dogs looked at each other and shrugged, Dogaressa jotting down the information down on a fresh page of the book. “How old are you?”

“eleven. almost twelve.”

“Grillby says you have a father. What’s his name?”

“Dr. W. D. Gaster.” Sans replied, oddly proud.

“And where do you live?”

“hotland.”

“Do you have an address?”

Sans squinted his eyes, thinking of how to answer. “um…the, uh, the core?”

Dogaressa almost broke her pencil against the notebook. All of the adults at the table stared at him incredulously, and Sans began to sweat under the sudden intense attention. He looked around nervously, confused by their reactions.

A cry rang out behind them, commanding all of their attention, Sans jolting out of his seat. Dr. Cottontail was trying to calm down a near hysterical Papyrus, who was burying himself deeper and deeper into his blanket. She held her paws out like she wanted to give him a reassuring hug, but that only made his anxiety worse. Her eyes were wide, pleading for help.

Sans was instantly at his brother’s side. “hey pap. hey buddy. it’s okay. look at me.” The crying died down enough for tiny frightened eye sockets to peer out from the blanket folds. “i’m calm, aren’t i?”

“Y-YES…”

“so you can be calm too, can’t you?”

“DON’T… D-DON’T KNOW…”

Sans took the blanket and spread it out over the two of them, creating a little fort. Grillby watched in trepidation, unsure of what was happening. Slowly the muffled cries devolved into deep, deliberate breaths. The fort was filled with hushed whispers, punctuated by more breathing sessions whenever Papyrus started getting excitable again. This lasted a couple of minutes, none of the adults feeling comfortable enough to interfere. Finally, Sans pulled the blanket down, handing it back to Papyrus, who promptly held it over his mouth protectively.

“pap doesn’t like taking his gloves off,” Sans explained, as if that was reason enough for the sudden extreme behavior.

“I just need to check and make sure his hands aren’t injured,” Dr. Cottontail insisted. Papyrus whimpered.

“he said he doesn’t want to,” Sans said slowly, his voice growing agitated and almost threatening.

She sighed softly. “Sans, this is for his own good. If the cold hurt him and I don’t help him soon, it might make him worse. You want him to get better, don’t you?”

Sans looked at his brother, guilt shining through his eyelights. He broke. “…do you have to touch his hands?”

“No, only look.”

“’dja hear that, pap? a quick look, s’all,” he assured. “then you can put them back on.”

Papyrus stared at Dr. Cottontail, his eyes boring holes through her. “SWEAR?”

“I swear,” she affirmed.

He kept staring at her for almost a whole minute. Then he took in a shuddering breath, giving in. Slowly, he removed the gloves, wincing as soon as his hands met the bare air. He held his palms out rigidly for inspection, barely able to look at them himself. Dr. Cottontail did her job as quickly as she could, peering over his bones. She had him begrudgingly stretch his fingers out one time and then it was over. The gloves instantly went back on.

Once it was clear that Papyrus was calm and again comfortable around the doctor, the question session with Sans resumed. Grillby couldn’t help but notice that the Dogi shared a flurry of hushed yips before they all returned to their seats.

“sorry. That, uh, that doesn’t happen a lot,” Sans explained, looking over at his brother. “he’s getting better at that.”

Dogaressa looked like she wanted to ask something but she stayed quiet, preparing herself to write more notes.

“That’s alright. No harm done,” Dogamy said a little too quickly. “Now, where was it you said you lived again?”

“the core. well…not like, in in the core. more like next to it? it’s a big door, can’t miss it.” Sans mimed out the shape of a door. “we have to be close, since dad’s the royal scientist ‘n all.”

Grillby stiffened. It had been off putting enough that the boy was convinced he lived by the core, an area far too volatile for residential living. Heck, no one even wanted to commute through there if they could avoid it. But that was nothing compared to his latest testimony. It suddenly made sense why Sans was so proud when reciting his father’s name but - the royal scientist? There hadn’t been anyone in that position in…stars, what was it now, years? He couldn’t even recall who the last one had been, and the name ‘W. D. Gaster’ meant nothing to Grillby.

The dogs reacted similarly to the information, and Sans seemed to pick up on that all familiar tension filling in the air. “i know it sounds dangerous and everything but considering dad designed the core himself, he made our home with the best core insurance.” He chuckled at his own pun. None of the adults joined him.

“So, if you live in Hotland, how did you end up here in Snowdin?” Dogamy asked.

“ah…long story…” Sans closed his eyes, as if he were thinking about how to start. “so dad is working on a way to recalibrate the core, right? make it more efficient. he made a breakthrough and had his whole team come down to work on it. pap and i got to come too because we’re basically lab assistants. he was prepping the procedure when something…happened. it was bad. sirens were going off and everything. pap was freaking out so i went to help him and then…uh…well…um…” He stopped, blinking and suddenly looking confused. The confusion quickly turned to distress, his eyelights shrinking into pinpricks.

“(Are you okay, little pup?)” Dogaressa yipped, concern lacing her voice.

“…i…i can’t…” He held his head in his hands, sweat dripping from it. His sockets had almost gone completely black. “they…they told us to go in the control room for safety but i… i can’t…i can’t remember their name…” He took in a shuddering gasp. “any of their names…”

Grillby couldn’t take it any longer. “Enough.”

Both dogs were taken aback at his interjection, and unsurprisingly so - he had kept his figurative mouth shut throughout the whole interrogation. Despite this, Dogaressa smiled, looking pleased for reasons Grillby couldn’t fathom.

Sans turned his head toward Grillby. The combination of the hollow eyes and permanent smile was unsettling, but despite it all Grillby saw something else. The way the corners of his too-wide grin were strained. How his eye sockets seemed deep and dark enough to swallow the boy up. These were signs the flame had seen in war veterans, not children. Sans’ story was confusing, and in some aspects impossible, but there was no doubt that something had happened. Something very bad.

“We’re done.” Grillby asked, hoping for some sort of response other than this lifeless stare. “No more questions.”

The child breathed in slowly, his body relaxing and his eyelights gradually fading back in. Grillby let out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding in.

Sans looked over at the notebook Dogaressa was using. “…do you have any more of those?” He asked quietly. “…that i could use?”

Dogamy rustled through his cloak pocket a doctor retrieved another notebook and a pen, which he both handed over to the young skeleton. Sans thanked him, gazing down at the notebook like it was a life preserver.

“Why don’t you go over and see if you and your brother are ready to switch places?” Dogamy asked, motioning over to Papyrus and Dr. Cottontail.

He nodded, shuffling out of his seat and over in that direction. Grillby started to get up to follow, still concerned about the boy’s emotional and mental health, only for a paw to grab his hand. He turned to see Dogaressa, who was shaking her head.

“You know we’ll have to ask him again eventually,” she said softly.

Grillby sat back down begrudgingly. He deeply hoped that they would be able to piece this puzzle together without disturbing the child anymore. Knowing how complicated the situation was already, though, that was highly unlikely.

Papyrus hopped onto the seat his brother had just been on, a half eaten bisicle in his mouth. It was a seemingly innocent sight that Grillby would have almost found endearing if he didn’t know about the immense healing magic imbued in it. The boy might think it was just a sweet reward for a mostly well-behaved check up, but in reality it was healing him quickly from whatever ailment he had. Grillby didn’t even want to think about how much HP the child needed to recover.

“(Hi, Papyrus. I’m Dogaressa and this is my husband, Dogamy. We’re going to ask you a few questions, is that ok?)” Dogaressa began.

Papyrus popped the bisicle out of his mouth and frowned. “I’M NOT GOOD AT TESTS.”

“It’s not a test…it’s more like telling a story,” Dogamy explained. “Look, here’s the first question: how old are you?”

“OH!” Papyrus’s eyes brightened. “I KNOW THIS ONE! SIX!!” He bit down on the last bit of the bisicle and stuck out six fingers in their direction.

“Good! Now we know more about our main character!” Dogamy smiled. “And where do you live?”

“HOME,” he replied simply.

“…where is home like?” Dogamy asked.

“IT’S…VERY HOT. AND CLEAN. AND SHINY.” Papyrus gnawed on the bisicle stick, frowning. “YEAH. THAT’S HOME.”

“So you live there with your brother and your father?”

The boy stiffened, and slowly turned toward where Sans was sitting. Grillby could see Papyrus start to get fidgety, much like he had last night when the subject had first been brought up. Sans, however, was preoccupied with the thorough examinations Dr. Cottontail was putting him through - and perhaps still caught up in whatever memories or lack thereof his questioning had dredged up.

“He can’t hear you,” Grillby assured.

“…I DON’T LIKE THIS QUESTION…” He spit out the stick and set it on the table, staring down at it for a good minute. Then he spoke, eyes still facing down. “MY BROTHER KEEPS SAYING THESE THINGS THAT AREN’T TRUE AND I DON’T KNOW WHY.”

“About your father?” Dogamy offered.

Papyrus gave a small nod, covering his mouth with his blanket. “WE DON’T HAVE ONE.”

“(No mother either? Or perhaps an aunt or uncle?)” Dogaressa asked calmly, though her writing paw had started to clench the pencil a bit too tight.

“JUST ME AND SANS,” he replied simply.

“You lived by yourself? How…how did you…” Dogamy paused, obviously struggling to find a way to word the question in a way a child would understand.

“…BAD…” Papyrus muttered, staring off somewhere into middle space. “…BAD THINGS HAPPENED AT HOME…BUT THEN WE CAME HERE…TO THE COLD PLACE!”

“So you walked all the way from Hotland? Or did the Riverperson take you?”

Papyrus’ brow furrowed. “WE JUST CAME HERE.”

“But did you walk…did you pass by the caves with all the pretty ceilings or did you go in someone’s boat?” Dogamy asked, appearing a bit frustrated.

“PRETTY CEILINGS? A BOAT?” The boy started to look distressed, fidgeting more. “NO…IT WAS JUST HOT AND THEN IT WAS COLD.”

Dogamy opened his mouth to ask another question when Dr. Cottontail approached the table holding a medical chart. “We’re done if you’re ready.” She was smiling a tad too forced, foot tapping nervously on the floor.

“(Perfect timing! We just finished!)” Dogaressa said cheerfully, earning a silent scowl from her husband. “(Papyrus, why don’t you and your brother go play in the back while the adults talk?)”

Papyrus nodded and walked over to Sans who had two - stars, _two_ \- pairs of bisicles in one hand, the notebook and pen in the other. They both went through the doorway and into the spare room, appearing fairly taxed after the adults fussing over them. As soon as they were out of view Dr. Cottontail broke her facade. Her face paled and she slumped into the now empty chair. Grillby could feel a pit growing in his stomach.

“…is it that bad?” He asked, fearing the answer.

“I haven’t- I have never seen stats like this before. Ever. And their behavior…I asked them about school and friends as small talk and they looked at me like I was talking nonsense. I don’t even think Papyrus knows what a school is!” She sputtered, flustered.

“They couldn’t even corroborate most of each other’s stories - but they were both so earnest…” Dogamy mused, looking over his wife’s notes.

“Is Papyrus sick?” Grillby asked, trying to focus on the tangible things he could fix right now.

“They both have slight colds - and considering they’ve never been anywhere colder than Hotland that’s only expected - but with medicine and proper care they should recover in a day or so,” she explained.

Grillby looked down at Papyrus’ bisicle stick, still lying on the table where he left it. The doctor noticed.

“As I said before…their stats are abysmal, and they weren’t even at their full HP. I was trying to get them to that at least, but even then it isn’t looking good for long term. Papyrus is still growing so his numbers could improve in the future but Sans…” She paused, her foot tapping ramping up. “There are marks…they look like they were from needles and other medical tools. Papyrus barely has any but Sans…and the bruising…”

She took a breath and looked up at them with wide eyes.

“…he only has a maximum of one HP.”

Everything seemed to stop for Grillby. Somewhere in the distance he was faintly aware of the discussion continuing. Angry words exchanged about how unnatural one HP was, about how it had to be deliberately caused, about the high chance of abuse. He tried to ignore the implications but it was too late. All he could see were wide eyes begging for his help. Little skeletal hands shaking from the cold. A boy who - for too long of a moment - had the face of a man who had experienced major trauma.

Grillby didn’t realize he had even stood up until he was already at the front of the restaurant, and by then he couldn’t control his rage. It burned through him, consuming him, building up pressure and looking for a way to escape. He let it. His flames burst out, flaring far beyond the humanoid shape he usually maintained. It only lasted less than a minute, but it did the trick. He could feel his anger subsiding - it remained, for sure, but it was manageable once again. The flames died down and he leaned forward onto the nearest table, slightly drained from the display.

Once he looked up he was met with shocked expressions. Of course. He hadn’t exactly given any warning that he was going to go and explode like a bomb. At least the kids were still in the other room. Looking down on the floor he saw he had also scorched some of the woodwork. Great. He made a mental reminder next time to flare up outside in the snow where he wouldn’t cause any property damage.

“Sorry,” he said softly.

Dogaressa stood up and walked over, taking his hand in hers. He flinched, not wanting to blow up again and burn her. She tightened her grip.

“(We feel the same way, Grillby. There is no need to apologize.)” She smiled sadly. “(No need at all.)”

He nodded somewhat reluctantly and allowed her to gently lead him back to his seat. He hadn’t gotten that heated in quite some time, and even then he never did that in public. The realization of what he had done mortified him. Flame elementals tended to have a reputation for destruction and he only fed into that stereotype. Nevertheless, the conversation resumed as if nothing had really changed, aside from some nervous glances from Dr. Cottontail.

“We’ll have to start an investigation in Hotland. See what parts of their stories we can prove - find any potential relatives,” Dogamy announced. “Until then…the children should stay in Snowdin. It’s quiet, and far away from Hotland in case…”

He didn’t have to finish his thought. If someone was abusing them there, Grillby wanted them universes away from that place. He could feel the flames on his head bristle. Nope. He wasn’t doing that again. A deep breath, and that anger was under control once more.

“(Then it’s settled!)” Dogaressa yipped, clapping her paws together. “(They’ll stay here with Grillby!)”

Grillby stared at her, not believing what he was hearing. All she did was smile back at him, so he turned to her husband for some reason instead.

“She has a point,” Dogamy admitted. “The guard will be busy with patrols and investigations, and almost everyone here already has a family of their own - and they are handfuls enough. The kids seem comfortable around you-”

“(And we’ll be sure to ask them if they are okay with it first,)” Dogaressa assured.

“And I suppose we should be asking you, too,” Dogamy added. “Will you take care of them, Grillby?”

Everyone was staring at him again, this time in anticipation. He didn’t know what to say. So many objections arose in his mind: he didn’t know the first thing about kids, he had a late night job, he wasn’t sure if he could give them the care they needed. And yet he was overwhelmed with different feelings. Honor. Responsibility. Duty. Fear and anxiety too, for sure, but if they needed a warm bed to sleep in and a safe environment for the next week or so…that was something Grillby knew he could offer.

It looked like he was going to have to close up the bar for a little while.


	3. Fluffy Bunny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just domestic fluff. Definitely no plot here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys again I'm floored by the response on this! Nearing 100 kudos already and just..agh. thank you
> 
> I apologize for the pacing on this one it seems like its going like a hundred miles per hour honestly I struggle not to slow down anything that isn't plot heavy haha

Sans stared up at the sign on the building, his grin seeming almost wider than usual. 

“next time maybe they should try and stick to the letter,” he commented. 

The three of them walked into the Librarby without further discussion, though Grillby could hear the older boy chuckling under his breath. The laughing stopped as soon as they entered the premises. They were faced with a room lined with bookcases, each one overflowing with books. It was mostly empty, save for a librarbian at the counter and a female monster working on some papers at a table. There were some baskets for carrying the books, and Grillby picked one up, anticipating quite the haul. Sans looked at him, as if asking for permission to venture forth. He nodded back, and the skeleton ran off excitedly toward one of the many shelves. 

Papyrus stayed by Grillby’s side, eyeing all the books curiously. “AND WE CAN TAKE SOME BACK TO READ?”

The librarbian peeked up from her magazine and shushed at Papyrus disapprovingly. He flinched away from her, holding his blanket close. Grillby sighed. They had gone over the rules about loud voices before they left, but he had figured that would be a hard concept for Papyrus to grasp. He placed a hand on the back of Papyrus’ skull, donned with an orange hat, and reassuringly and led him over to the children’s book section. Oddly enough Sans wasn’t there, but over in an area Grillby hadn’t even explored before. Stars knew what sort of books were there. Grillby just prayed that they were age appropriate. 

“Pick as many as want,” Grillby explained, motioning at the books in front of them. 

“WOWIE! OK!” Papyrus answered enthusiastically. Grillby was quick to put a finger against his mouth, glancing back at the librarbian who, mercifully, hadn’t noticed the outburst. Papyrus looked confused but he nodded all the same. 

Grillby left him to his own devices and went searching for his own set of books. While it was his main intention to bring the boys here for entertainment, he did have an ulterior motive of his own. Scanning the books on monster studies, he finally found the section on skeletons. It was unsurprisingly sparse. He picked out the ones that seemed most informative and put them in his basket. 

Once done, he started over to check on Sans, only for another shelf to catch his eye. Parenting. He stared at it, for a moment actually considering looking through a book or two. That was unreasonable, though. The guard would be done with their investigation any day now and then the children would go somewhere else. The skeleton books were to make sure he could manage their unique health while he had them - anything parenting related would just be an indulgence at this point. 

“Grillby! It’s good to see you!”

He turned. It was Bonny, the shopkeeper, and her small tribe of children. He hadn’t even heard them enter the building, and that was tough with how many of them there were. Honestly it was near impossible to keep track of them all - they were never all in the same place at once. Even now they were hopping all over the librarby like it was their own house. Making quite a lot of noise too. The librarbian looked too put out to  reprimand any more. 

“Bonny,” Grillby replied, nodding.

She looked like she was about to ask him something when Sans raced up to the two of them. He dumped a bunch of books into the basket, which from a quick look, Grillby could see were about astronomy, jokes, and...theoretical physics? He was no longer concerned about age appropriate-ness, but basic comprehension.

“sorry mr. grillby! i just remembered something!” he exclaimed, running over to the table. He whipped out his notebook from his pocket, flipping it open to an open page and jotting down words furiously. 

It had been like this ever since the Dogi gave him that notebook. He insisted on writing down everything, claiming it would keep him from forgetting. The book was always by his side. Writing sessions would interrupt meals, baths, once Grillby even heard the boy get up in the night. Grillby wasn’t sure what Sans thought he was forgetting. He wasn’t sure if anything Sans had gone through was actually worth remembering, either. He didn’t press the matter though; it wasn’t affecting the child poorly in any way, from what he could tell, so he saw no need to address it. Yet. 

“So these must be the boys I’m hearing so much about!” Bonny said. 

Grillby nodded while motioning to each of them. “Sans. Papyrus.”

“They are adorable. Just as cute as a button.” She beamed. “Looks like they've finally adjusted to Snowdin’s climate?”

“Clean bills of health,” Grillby explained. Finally. He had been so scared for both of them, but once Dr. Cottontail prescribed proper treatment they recovered excellently. Now he had them smothered in layer upon layer of clothes, donated by the guard, hoping never to hear a cough again. He had plenty of medicine left over in case that should happen, though. 

“That's a relief!” She paused. “You know, Grillby, it's super sweet of you to do all this for them.” Her mouth broke into a smile. “I think it's good for you too.”

Grillby didn't understand what that meant. Almost everyone he talked to lately expressed similar sentiment, how happy they were for him. Sometimes it was just the way they looked at him and the boys and smiled that gave it away. Dogaressa seemed especially pleased whenever she called to get a checkup on how they were doing, which was often several times a day. Even before this she was always overly concerned about his wellbeing, like something was wrong with him. Like he needed to be fixed. It was almost as if they didn't even know that these kids had probably gone through far worse.

“Looks like they're making friends already!” Bonny said, looking over his shoulder.

He turned. Papyrus was cornered against a shelf by two of her kids - one of them was Peter, if he remembered correctly - who were excitedly talking to him in high pitched tones. Grillby may have only known the boy for a few days, but it was easy to tell when he was overwhelmed. He either covered part of himself up with his blanket or fidgeted with his fingers, rubbing his phalanges against the glove fabric. He was opting for the latter coping method this time. As far as Grillby could tell, Papyrus actually liked being around people, but Grillby had a feeling this might be too much energy and attention too quickly.

He said goodbye to Bonny and walked over to the group. Peter grinned up at him. “Hi, Grillby!”

He nodded.

“We were just talking to...uh...the new kid here!” the bunny explained.

“I don't think he knows how to talk though…” his brother added, earning him a swift elbow to the ribs. 

“Anyways, we just wanted to show him our favorite book! We think he’ll like it!” 

A book with a rabbit on the cover was shoved in Grillby’s direction, and he put it in the basket. 

“Thank you.” He turned to Papyrus. “Ready?”

The skeleton still looked like a deer in the headlights, but he nodded, clutching the books he had already picked out. 

“Ah, okay! See you later...uh…” Peter paused.

Papyrus’ eyes flicked to Grillby, the librarbian (who by now had stuck headphones in her ears), back to Grillby, then to Peter. He took a breath, feeling the edge of his blanket with his free hand. “MY NAME IS PAPYRUS.”

“Cool!” Peter smiled. “See ya, Papyrus!” 

Papyrus eyed him cautiously, as if he were calculating something. Then he slowly broke out into a wide smile. He even waved at the boys as Grillby led him away. 

Once they were a good distance away, tiny gloved fingers wrapped their way around Grillby’s hand and tugged, maybe a little harder than warranted. Grillby froze, shocked by Papyrus initiating physical contact - so far he seemed to avoid it unless he was hugging his brother. The elemental looked down at the boy, who was wearing a confused expression on his face.

“I THOUGHT I WAS SUPPOSED TO…” He made a shushing noise, “AND THEY WERE TRYING TO TRICK ME AND BREAK THE RULES, BUT THEY WERE ACTUALLY NICE!”

Grillby did his best not to laugh, instead patting Papyrus gently on the head. They made their way to the table, where Sans was still busy writing. The other monster sitting there was watching him intently, smiling.

“He's a hard worker, isn't he?” She muttered as Grillby approached. “What’re you working on, son? A story?”

“a record,” Sans corrected.  "a journey-al down memory lane, you could say.”

Papyrus groaned. 

“Puns? You like wordplay, huh?” She laughed. “Here, kid, have one of these. I need someone to test these out and I think you'd like them.” She handed him a paper pamphlet. “Your brother can have one too.” 

Grillby took one for Papyrus. It was a collection of word based puzzles. Word search. Junior Jumble. Crossword. There were also some riddles, tongue twisters and a sudoku added in their for good measure. That should be fun. He nodded toward the monster in gratitude.

“Just let me know how they like them. Gotta know if they’re newspaper worthy yet,” she requested. 

Once Sans was finished, they checked out their books and headed out of the Librarby. It was a relatively short walk from the facility over to the house, made slightly longer by Papyrus dragging his feet in the snow. He didn’t quite seem to get the hang of maneuvering in this weather, his boots sinking a few good inches with each step. It might have slowed him down but he hardly acted like it was a deterrent, carrying the picture books he had picked out proudly, all wrapped up in his blanket. He had been afraid they would get cold and insisted transporting them in that way. Grillby knew it would protect them from the moisture and encouraged it.

When they reached the house the three of them stood in front of it for a minute, Papyrus and Sans staring up at the two-story building. It was almost as if they hadn’t seen a house before. If he had known he would have brought them over sooner, but he was nervous about taking them outside before they were completely recovered. Finally, Grillby moved forward and unlocked the front door.

“WE’RE STAYING HERE?” Papyrus asked.

Grillby nodded.

“SO...YOU HAVE TWO RESTAURANTS?” 

“No,” he replied. “It's a home.”

Papyrus looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but Grillby was eager to get inside and out of the cold. He opened the door and beckoned the two of them in. They looked around as they entered, taking in the new place, but Grillby doubted they'd be impressed. The first floor was pretty sparse, mainly just an oversized living room with an adjoining kitchen. There was a fireplace to the right, a couch on the near wall, a TV that was many years too old, a small closet and a smattering of tables and desks to carry clutter. No real decorations to speak of. Fairly spartan. But, it was warm and safe and that was all Grillby ever needed it to be.

“OH,” Papyrus mumbled as Grillby shut the door behind them. “YEAH, THIS WOULDN'T WORK AS A RESTAURANT.” He looked up at him. “BUT I STILL LIKE IT!”

They hung up all their winter gear in the closet and set the books on a desk. Sans looked intrigued by the large couch, and not a moment later had flopped onto it.

“...yeah, i could get used to this…” He said dreamily.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING TO SPEND ALL OF YOUR TIME ON THE COUCH, SANS!” Papyrus insisted.

“you’re right. i’m gonna spend some of it on a bed.”

Papyrus sighed and shook his head in frustration. 

Once everyone seemed settled in their new surroundings, Grillby entered the kitchen to make dinner. Since the house wasn't as well stocked on groceries as the bar, canned soup would have to do. He would buy more tomorrow, maybe make another outing of it. Papyrus made his way to the kitchen table, followed somewhat begrudgingly by Sans. The younger brother had the word games, which he spread on the table. 

“CAN I HAVE A PENCIL?” 

Grillby showed him the junk drawer, which held a variety of writing utensils, and he happily chose a blue mechanical pencil to use. Without any hesitation the boy got to work, looking at each puzzle with a scrutinizing eye. Sans, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. The soup finished and Grillby set out a bowl before each of them. A thought occurred to him, and he retrieved a towel, handing it to Sans.

“...heh, thanks mr. grillby,” Sans muttered, taking it from him without opening his eyes. It was almost like he somehow saw Grillby even with the closed sockets. Grillby would be impressed if it wasn't a tad offputting. 

Papyrus ate his soup slowly, the bone above his eyes knit in a frustrated brow. “SANS, HOW DO I DO THIS ONE?” 

Sans leaned over and opened one socket. “it’sa word search, bro. find the words on the left in the mess on the right.”

“OH. OKAY.” 

Grillby watched the two eat for awhile, not too hungry himself. Suddenly, a chill went through the room. It was late enough that the house would require some additional heating, especially if he wanted to keep them from getting sick again. He walked over to the fireplace, stopping when he saw the jar on the mantle above it. There was a moment of hesitation, of wondering. He turned to the boys, who were preoccupied with eating and puzzles. It was almost as if they didn't notice he had got up at all. 

The jar was old, back from when monsters lived on the surface in fact, but what it held inside was far more precious. He carefully lifted it from its spot and knelt down. There was a dull pounding in his head and he had to pause, taking a moment for it to pass. Tipping the jar gently, not wanting to lose too much at once, he sprinkled some of it's contents onto the log. Dust. He stared at the fireplace, how the tiny grains speckled the wood grain, then blew gently over the log, igniting it. For a brief moment the flames sparked a brilliant blue, then died down to a mellow red and orange. The jar was returned to the mantle and Grillby walked back into the kitchen.

“WHAT’S THAT SMELL?” Papyrus asked, looking up from his word games. 

“The fire,” Grillby explained.

“HUH. IT DOESN’T SMELL LIKE YOU.” 

It wasn’t supposed to.

When the kids were done, Grillby had them wash their bowls in the sink. He took the opportunity to look over at the puzzles on the table. Sans hadn’t even touched his, though it looked like it had gained a few soup stains. That wasn’t surprising, he hadn’t seemed very interested in the pamphlet anyways. Papyrus’, on the other hand, was almost completed. Something warm stirred inside Grillby, but then he saw the answers Papyrus gave. 

The crossword had been treated like a maze, with a line travelling through the spaces from one end to the other. The sudoku squares had been filled out to create a smiley face, with a tiny flag drawn in the bottom corner. The junior jumble had angry dashes run through all of it. Grillby didn’t know what to think, wondering if maybe Papyrus just didn’t understand the rules of some of the games, or blatantly ignored them. The word search, however, was perfectly done. Every word on the list was circled impeccably. Even ones that were written diagonally and, a diabolical move Grillby thought, backwards. He shook his head. As long as the kid had fun, he supposed, it didn't matter that he had only done one correctly.

Prompting them to grab the books they had picked out, Grillby led the brothers upstairs. They entered the first bedroom, the one that Grillby used to use when he stayed at the house. He had moved all of his things into the other bedroom yesterday, and had stored everything that had been in the other bedroom in the shed out back. This room was bigger, seemed to fit the boys more. It was about as well decorated as the first floor, but the closet was filled with clothes and some toys the guard had provided on short notice. One bed, two bedside tables, and a small rug underneath it all. If they needed another bed he would gladly give them his, but from what he could tell they were more comfortable sharing one right now. He figured when they were older that sentiment would probably change. 

Almost immediately Papyrus stacked his books and blanket on one of the tables and hopped onto the bed. He bounced on the balls of his feet, as if testing out the bedsprings. After a good bounce or two his face broke out into a smile. One big jump, a cry of ‘NYEH!’, and he landed sprawled on the bed, giggling.

“THIS BED IS PERFECT!” he exclaimed. “I COULD JUMP ALL NIGHT!!”

“...please don’t, pap. some people do use beds for sleeping, y’know,” Sans moaned.

“THOSE PEOPLE ARE WEIRD. AND LAZYBONES.”

Papyrus didn’t seem to sleep much. Sans had mentioned it before, but once his brother started recovering from his cold it became even more apparent. Papyrus was up and ready to go often a good hour or two before Grillby was, and Grillby already got up early to start on food prep. It had startled him a bit to find the young skeleton wandering the bar at six in the morning the first time. Despite all of this the boy never seemed tired until bedtime approached, which was around nine o’clock. He would do everything in his power to keep playing, drawing, or whatever it was he was doing that evening, but it was clear he was winding down. It was near difficult to get him into the bed, but Sans seemed used to this problem. He would either wrap his brother up in his blanket and carry him into it, or trick him in with the promise of a story. 

It was nearing nine now, and Grillby figured it was about time to settle them down for the night. He opened the closet and picked out a set of pajamas for both of them, laying them on the bed. Sans waddled over and started changing, while Papyrus eyed the red onesie with mistrust, knowing exactly what the change of clothes implied. 

“wow, bro. this feels just like your blanket.” Sans swept his fingers over the pajama fabric, his grin taking on a devilish quality. 

Papyrus looked even more conflicted, then sighed. “I GUESS I CAN TRY IT.”

Sans winked at Grillby, who would’ve smiled back if he could. The elemental went into the restroom while the two finished changing, grabbing their cold medicine. Today was the last day of regular dosage, just for precaution. Dr. Cottontail said they should be fine unless they started showing symptoms again. Grillby was going to do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen.

When he returned, both boys were dressed in their pajamas and, surprisingly, seated snugly under the covers. Grillby was surprised, until he saw the book laid out on Papyrus’ lap. It was the picture book Peter had recommended, which Grillby could now see was called ‘Peekaboo with Fluffy Bunny’. Papyrus looked up at Grillby expectantly. 

He took the book and sat down on the edge of the bed, only for Papyrus to slam his hands down on the covers.

“NO! NOT THERE!!” He patted between him and his brother on the sheets, where there was just enough room for an adult to fit. 

“gotta have it so both of us can see,” Sans drawled, his eyes already closed. 

Grillby adjusted his glasses, then crawled over inbetween the boys. He shuffled his weight, making sure he wasn't taking too much space - and that he wasn't hurting his back in the process. It wasn't entirely the most comfortable position but he could work with it. 

There was a weight on his right arm. He peered down. Papyrus’ head was leaning on him, eyes attentive to the yet-read book. His flames softened. The sight created an odd emotion in him; it was almost as if his very soul was being warmed. He didn't know what it meant, but he didn't want it to stop. He wanted these kids to be happy and safe forever. 

Grillby opened the book and started to read. “Once there was a rabbit named Fluffy Bunny…”


	4. Knock, Knock; Who's There?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a knock on the door!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for your support! Over 100 kudos and almost a thousand hits? That's overwhelming to me haha. I have a tumblr if any of you care? (I didn't even think of sharing it till now haha). Its kaybdrabbles.tumblr.com. I crosspost there and if anyone actually follows it I could answer questions about the fic, maybe post preview segments and stuff?
> 
> Also this was originally the last chapter I wrote but after the warm welcome of chapter one on here I kinda kept it going haha so I have an additional two chapter buffer now. We'll see how long weekly updates go, I'll probably end up burning out eventually.

“WHAT’S THAT?”

Grillby looked up from the book on skeletons he was reading. Papyrus was on the floor, pointing at the laminated piece of sparkly paper laying on the arm of the couch next to Grillby.

Sans, lounging on the opposite end, raised his head. “pretty sure that's a couch, bro.”

“OH…” Papyrus replied, looking confused.

“but what's on top of the couch?”

Papyrus squinted. “A...SHINY THING?”

“A bookmark,” Grillby provided.

“it keeps your place in a long story,” Sans added. “pretty unre- _mark_ -able.”

Papyrus gave an annoyed ‘NYEH’ at the pun and went back to work. “WELL I THINK IT LOOKS PRETTY.”

They were all taking a lazy morning. No one had even changed out of their pajamas yet, and they probably wouldn't until tomorrow. Yesterday was an errands day, getting some groceries and other supplies, and since Grillby still didn't feel comfortable reopening the bar yet there really wasn't anything for them to do. Essentially, they all got up, plopped down in the living room, and haven't moved since. Sans was taking turns napping and writing in his notebook. Papyrus was coloring with crayons, pictures spread all over the floor. Grillby was catching up on his skeleton research; apparently he needed to make sure he was providing plenty of calcium, and brushing their teeth twice a day. Considering he didn't have teeth - or bones at all for that matter - these health points had never even occurred to him.

There was a knock on the door. Papyrus startled, not anticipating the sudden noise, but Sans didn’t even budge, dozing off with his notebook on his chest. Grillby stuck the bookmark in between the pages and stood up. He hadn’t been expecting anyone but he figured this would be the guard. From his calls with Dogaressa, he had inferred that they were almost done with the investigation. His chest felt tight at the thought, desperate for good news but knowing the facts they had gathered so far weren’t pointing to that. He took a calming breath, walked over and opened the door.

The first thing he saw was the yellow beard and fluffy ears, but his attention was immediately drawn to the royal purple robes draped over a body that was far too tall and wide to fit in the doorframe.

“Howdy!” the king of all monsters said cheerfully, raising a hand in greeting.

If Grillby wasn’t anxious before he certainly was now.

Two hooded figures stepped in front of the king, quickly revealing themselves to be the Dogi.

“Hi, Grillby. Sorry to pop in unannounced,” Dogamy greeted sheepishly.

“(Can we take the boys upstairs for a bit?)” Dogaressa asked.

Grillby nodded dumbly and stepped aside to let them in, still slowly processing what was happening.

“(Good morning pups!)” She announced as they entered the living room.

Papyrus looked up from his coloring and grinned. “HI DOGARESSA!”

Sans jolted awake, clutching his notebook. He turned toward the Dogi excitedly. “did you find our dad?”

There was an awkward pause. Dogaressa still smiled, but Grillby could see the corners of her mouth tighten ever so slightly. Oh. Grillby had expected something like this, but he wasn’t looking forward to Sans hearing the results of the investigation. Honestly, he wasn’t looking forward to hearing the results himself either.

“We’ll talk about that in a second. Why don't you show us your room first?” Dogamy suggested.

“I CAN SHOW YOU ALL MY PICTURES!!” Papyrus scrambled about, grabbing all the loose pictures on the floor and wrapping them in his blanket. “AND WE HAVE LOTS OF BOOKS UP THERE TOO! COME ON, LET'S GO!”

He grabbed Dogamy’s paw with his free hand and practically dragged the dog up the stairs. His wife and Sans followed after them, the boy’s eyes furrowed in confusion.

That left Grillby downstairs with Asgore Dreemurr at his front door. Stars, the ruler of the Underground, at _his_ house! He felt like he was going to be sick - or at least that he should have cleaned up a bit instead of lying around all day. His head was growing dizzy with questions. Why was the king here? The investigation was just the guard’s duty, he didn’t need to busy himself with it. How should Grillby address him? Your Majesty? Highness? My liege? He caught sight of the pajamas he was still wearing and grew increasingly nauseous.

A soft throat-clearing noise broke him from his thoughts. “Ah...so…” The king shuffled in place, as if not sure what to do next.

It took a moment, but Grillby realized he was waiting to be invited in. The king was waiting for permission to enter from a bartender. Even the Dogi had basically just barged in - but the king? The king waited, and Grillby hadn’t even thought to ask the most important figure in monsterkind into his house. He was mortified.

The elemental motioned for the king to enter, stepping back to allow for an even wider berth. The boss monster smiled and walked in, having to duck severely and turn himself sideways to fit through the door. Grillby bowed as soon as he crossed the threshold - should he have done that first thing, was it too late now? - stars, he was flustered.

The king raised his paws in protest. “Oh, shucks. There’s no need for that, friend.”

Grillby supposed that was his cue to relax. He was finding that impossible to do.

His royal guest looked around the room, as if appraising the interior of the house. Every scuff mark and stain made Grillby wince. He could feel a headache coming on; of course, with how well everything else was going, why not make it even better?

“You have a lovely home,” The king murmured, voice rich and deep. He reached into his robes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought some tea for the occasion. It seemed like a good day for tea.”

He took out a thermos as well as a plastic bag filled with tea ingredients. He held the bag out for Grillby and after a cognitive delay Grillby took it with a nod. The king of the monsters was a guest in his house, had brought refreshments _and_ made sure it was safe for an elemental to consume? This had to be some kind of joke.

Grillby offered the couch to the king and pulled up a chair for himself. And then they just sat. The king sipped at his tea. Grillby ate from the bag. Golden flower. It was mostly sweet, tinged with a hint of bitterness throughout. Light and refreshing. He found himself being calmed despite the ever present anxiety of having his king not ten paces in front of him. There was the overwhelming feeling that something was supposed to happen, but Grillby did not want to be the one to start it. For now he was as comfortable as he could be just sitting.

Finally, the king spoke up. “...I’m sure you are wondering why I’m here.”

That was an understatement.

“The Guard have very little disruptions to handle, aside from the patrols for humans, so I tend to let them tackle their own cases.” He paused, looking down at the table as his fingers tapped against the thermos. “But when this one was reported to me...the implications and the children...I’m sure you can understand why I was compelled to get involved.”

Oh. Suddenly everything made sense. It had been a few years, but it was still hard to forget...the incident. He looked at king, as if truly seeing him for the first time since he arrived. His race’s symbol of hope and determination was not as strong or fierce as he looked on the television screen, declaring death on any human who fell into their domain. Before him sat a monster whose every features screamed that he was ragged, nearly defeated by carrying the burden of his people on his shoulders as well as his own personal tragedies. The queen still hadn’t been found since the laws against humans were passed, so the king had to endure all of this on his own. The imprisonment of his kind, the loss of his children - these were all things that were beyond his control, that threatened to break him.

Of course hearing about the plight of two young boys would stir this man into action. It was something that he could fix. It was two lives he could ensure would last longer than those he had failed to protect.

In many ways, Grillby could feel nothing but empathy.

“I bet you’re anxious to hear what we’ve dug up so far,” The king continued. “And, honestly, I wish I had something more conclusive. This has been...complicated, upsetting...difficult. We aren't giving up yet but it seems like some of the answers are just out of our grasp. I came here myself, though, so you’d know we are determined. Our children are our future and if we can't make sure they are safe from us…” He turned his head away, paws gripping the thermos so hard it should have shattered.

Grillby could feel his soul hammering in his chest. His voice came out in a raw whisper. “...what did you find?”

The boss monster sighed, turning to look Grillby dead in the eye. “Nothing.”

Grillby straightened up, almost as if a jolt ran through him.

“There is no record of them anywhere. No birth certificates. No school reports. No house by the core - we couldn't even find the door,” he paused. “The same goes with their...father. No documentation of anyone with that name. We have been short a royal scientist for some time and even then...I don't recall ever working with a ‘W. D. Gaster’.”

Grillby stared at the king, shocked. He couldn’t think of a response to this revelation. Was there even a proper response to finding out that there was no evidence that pointed to these children even existing, let alone proving their stories right?

“We are still looking; in fact, the Dogi are hoping to gather more leads from them now...but in the wake of it all the Guard has its theories.”

No. Grillby didn’t want to hear this.

“Sans’ account of an accident lines up with the recent earthquake- we can only assume that the quake displaced them from wherever they were living in Hotland, and then they made their way here somehow. We asked the Riverperson but the answers we got were as cryptic as usual.” He set the thermos down on the coffee table. “As much as I want to think they were living by themselves or with a loving family, Sans’ stats and their memory issues...their mental conditions...it leads me to believe they’ve suffered a fair amount of trauma.”

Grillby had slumped forward, cradling his head in his hands. He could feel his heart breaking, his internal heat rising. The idea that anyone would even think of hurting these two - Sans, who just wanted to tell clever jokes, eat and sleep, and Papyrus, who insisted they all snuggle and read the same picture book together every night - it was bringing up an emotion Grillby couldn’t even begin to describe. Even though Sans’ story didn’t make sense, Grillby had entertained the notion, hoped, even, that it had some sliver of truth to it. Anything to doubt that the boys had been abused.

But now?

Now there was even less of a chance for Grillby to delude himself. Something had happened. Something horrible, unforgivable had happened and these brothers would have to deal with the consequences for the rest of their lives. You couldn’t just make that go away. Was there anyway anyone could even fix that?

Something touching his shoulder shook him from his thoughts. He flinched, not expecting the physical contact.

The king was standing next to him, staring at him with kind, misty eyes. “I’m so sorry, friend. I know...I know this wasn't the news you wanted to hear. It wasn't the news I wanted to tell, either.”

There was a slight tremor in the king’s paw. Grillby looked up at him, doing his best to keep his flames at a manageable level. This was tearing them both up inside, and as awful as that feeling of uselessness was, at least they weren't enduring it alone. Together with the guard there was a chance they could do something for the children. Yes. Grillby would cling to that hope. Even if the boys had come from an unspeakable past, they had people who would try and make their future better.

The king withdrew, returning to his seat on the couch. “We are going to give them the best we can. They’ll go to school, they’ll have birthdays, jobs...they’ll endure. And hopefully, under proper care, they’ll thrive. Which is why I…”

He was interrupted by the pitter patter of excited feet. Grillby turned to see Papyrus was racing down the stairs, stumbling on the last step and almost crashing into the wall. He recovered quickly and skittered over to the two adults.

“MR. GRILLBY, IT CAME TRUE!” He had one of his drawings in his hands and was nearly jumping up and down in place.

The Dogi and his brother were close behind him. “(Papyrus, we told you to wait…)” Dogaressa reminded, looking over at the king and Grillby apologetically.

“No, no, it’s fine. I think we were done with our talk anyways,” the king answered her, but his gaze was fixed on Papyrus.

If his eyes were misty before they were near watering now. He took a shuddering breath, hand clenching his thermos. Grillby could remember seeing the young prince on tv broadcasts. The child had an energy about him that was unmistakably similar to Papyrus. It was difficult not to compare. Finally the king turned away, wiping discreetly at his face.

“LOOK!” Papyrus shoved the picture before Grillby, pointing enthusiastically.

It was a simple drawing. The lines were crude and the colors barely stayed in them, but it was easy enough to determine what it was portraying: a little blue and red figure standing beside a tall orange man in front of a house.

“IT CAME TRUE! WE’RE STAYING WITH YOU!” Papyrus announced.

Grillby stared at the picture. Then he stared at the king. For some reason this was not something he expected. For a brief moment he had supposed the children were going to go to New Home with the king. But then it hit him. New Home. It was too close to Hotland, and for the time being it was best to keep them far from there. If it wasn’t for that, he was sure the king would be more than ready to take care of them.

But still. Wasn’t there anyone better suited for the job than Grillby?

“I was about to ask you if you would foster them for the time being,” the king admitted. “It seems that the children are agreeable to the idea.”

“YEAH!” Papyrus agreed.

“at least until dad is found,” Sans added, sounding oddly annoyed at Papyrus’ eagerness. He was holding his body funny, clutching his notebook tightly to his chest and nearly huddling into himself. The Dogi had told both of them about their investigation while upstairs - and obviously he wasn’t taking the news very well. Even though Grillby completely understood why the boy would be upset, it stung to hear Sans sound so put out just over staying here any longer than necessary.

It was quiet, like everyone was waiting for something. Grillby soon realized that that was him. They wanted an answer. He froze. The same doubts arose from before, magnified, even. The last time he was asked it was assumed they would only be there for a week or so. Now? Knowing how the investigation was going so far, there would never be a home for the skeletons to return to. It might be called fostering, but he would in effect be adopting the two. They would live with him until they went on their own.

The thought terrified him and yet...that warm feeling ignited in his soul again.

He nodded.

It was weird to think that something as simple as a nod would affect rest of his life.

Papyrus was ecstatic, actually hopping now. Behind him the Dogi were unsurprisingly pleased, Dogaressa holding her paws together and grinning a big ‘I knew this would happen’ sort of grin. The only one in the room who didn’t seem overtly happy was Sans. The boy just stood there, smiling like he always did, but there was no joy behind it. Obviously things could be going worse for him, but he wasn’t entirely happy about the situation either. Yet, he wasn’t about to complain about it, no doubt because his brother was so thrilled. He was the perfect picture of complacency.

“Wonderful!” The king said as he turned to the boys. “So then, you must be Sans and Papyrus?”

“THAT’S US!” Papyrus answered adamantly.

Sans looked the king over, studying him. Then he lazily raised a hand, his grin seeming to widen ever so slightly. “hey fluffybuns.”

The king blinked. Then he broke out into laughter, a hearty sound coming from deep in his belly. It lasted for almost a whole minute, filling the entire room. He rubbed the corners of his eyes.

“Ah, yes! I…I had almost forgotten…” He took a breath and stood up, peering down at Sans with a gentle gaze. “Thank you, young one. I think...I think I needed that.”

“sometimes you just goat-ta laugh,” Sans replied, though he appeared uneasy at the reaction rather than pleased.

“ARE YOU LEAVING?” Papyrus asked somewhat disappointedly as the king pocketed his thermos.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do. You two gave us plenty of more things to look into, so we ought to get started,” Dogamy informed.

“and you’'ll let us know if you find anything?” Sans asked, a hint of desperation in his tone.

“(Of course, little pup. We’ll call right away,)” Dogaressa assured.

Sans nodded, satisfied with the answer.

The king and his guard walked out the door, Papyrus waving energetically to them as they left, Sans already writing in his notebook. Grillby followed his guests out, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. He had just be given such a huge responsibility, and he suddenly realized he didn't even know where to start. Those parenting books at the librarby finally would do some good but...he wasn't really going to be their parent was he? This was indefinite, but that was a far cry from the certainty of permanent. He was to be a guardian, a caretaker. He wasn't sure if he could do that properly.

Grillby shut the door behind him, standing out in the snow. The king was observing the children through the window, a curious look on his face, like he was grasping an answer to a difficult puzzle.

“Those boys...there’s something about them that I can't put my finger on…” He muttered, turning to Grillby. “If you ever need anything, just let us know. We can provide a stipend for their care…”

Grillby was quick to shake his head, maybe a bit too hard. Money was not an issue here. As long as he could keep his restaurant open he knew he could financially provide for the brothers. That honestly was one area that he was the least worried about. It was mostly everything else - What if he wasn't enough? What if he did something wrong and set them back instead of raising them up?

Dogaressa smiled gently, as if sensing his stress. “(You just have to show them love, Grillby. You’ve been doing a good job of that so far.)”

“If you hadn't, we wouldn't have asked you,” Dogamy added with a chuckle.

Grillby wished this would inspire confidence in him. Instead it just added to the already suffocating pressure.

“I understand your apprehension,” The king said quietly. “But...you do feel something else, don't you?”

Yes. Something warm. Something that filled up his entire being. He could feel it in Papyrus’ smile, when Sans napped beside him on the couch. It was something hard to describe, hard to place. But it was unmistakably present, and it was because of these two kids.

“Follow that feeling, through the good times and the bad. It has a way of making one brave in all sorts of circumstances,” The king’s smile softened. “It's something you will fight tooth and nail not to lose.”

Grillby didn't know what to say. He nodded, suddenly feeling a bit less apprehensive than he was before.

The king reached into his pocket and handed him a card. “Once you feel they are ready,” he instructed carefully. “This should help them.”

It was a business card for a therapist. Grillby’s chest tightened, but he accepted it appreciatively. Although it would be easier to ignore their problems, he’d rather find a way to try and alleviate them. Since he had no way of even determining their mental struggles, seeking help was really the only option. Once they had adjusted to their new life, that is.

New life. It really was the strangest sensation, realizing everything he was used to was changing. And yet, not entirely unwelcome. He could feel that warmth in him again, and a gentle peace that came with it.

Everything was changing? No, that wasn't right at all.

It had changed when they first walked through his door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to write Goatdad positively I have too many feelings about him
> 
> Also for all of you noticing how Grillby was in denial about the skelebros staying - he's stuck with them now! haha


	5. Niece To Meet You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby gets another visitor! 
> 
> ...she's angry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the support! All the comments and kudos make my day, and over 1k views? That's astounding to me!

Crayon drawings were overtaking the house. It had started with the fridge but quickly run out of room, moving to the walls, the doors, some even hanging on the windows. Even now Papyrus was huddled over the table, working on a new batch. The pictures ranged from daily life in Snowdin to scenes that could only stem from the child’s imagination: colors and shapes held loosely together with reds and yellows. 

Sans was not nearly as productive as his brother. His writing spurts were becoming less frequent, leaving him to read over his work or one of the endless amounts of books he checked out from the librarby. In all of this, he never kept himself more than five feet away from the telephone, waiting in concentrated vigil for the guard to call. The Dogi had reported in twice, as well as requesting some additional testimony, but it was never the news the boy wanted to hear. Grillby wasn't sure if this obsessive behavior was healthy but he didn't want to dash Sans’ hope either. That could make it worse. 

Grillby flipped the burgers off of his mini grill and onto a plate. He was hoping to reopen the bar tomorrow so he needed to get back into the groove of cooking proper meals, not just soup and cereal. He was pretty sure the boys would appreciate a change in menu as well.

A knock. Another knock. A flurry of knocks in rapid succession. 

He stepped out of the kitchen, feeling an odd sense of deja vu, although this time the unexpected guest seemed a bit more urgent. He didn't know who it could possibly be. The Guard was never quite this pushy and they had no reason to show up unannounced. 

“MAYBE IT’S FLUFFYBUNS AGAIN?” Papyrus offered.

Stars, Grillby hoped not.

He wasn’t two steps into the main room before he heard a key enter the lock and the knob turn. He froze. It took less than a second for the door to slam open.

“Uncle Grillby!!”

Storming into the house was a shorter green flame dressed in a private school uniform. Her eyes - a rare feature for elementals - were seething, almost shooting bullets in his direction, while her entire body hummed with an enraged energy. She looked about ready to burn the entire house down.

Grillby just stared, more than a little confused but not at all intimidated. “...hello, Fuku.”

He’d seen his niece in much worse tantrums. 

“Don’t ‘hello, Fuku’ me!!” She spat, marching right up to his face. “You haven’t answered my calls for the last week! I nearly had a heart attack! Every time I’d call I’d just get some snot-nosed brat asking if my refrigerator...was…”

She slowed to a halt, attention diverted by something next to Grillby’s leg. He followed her gaze. Papyrus was standing somewhat behind him, treating Grillby almost like a shield. His blanket was draped around his head with his trembling hands clamped over where his ears would be. 

“IT’S TOO LOUD...TOO ANGRY…” He whimpered.

Grillby was quick to get on his knees, unsure of the best way to reassure him. Papyrus took advantage of the flame’s indecision by leaning in on him, burying his face into his shirt. Grillby hesitated, then rubbed Papyrus’ back gently. The boy seemed to relax a bit, much to his relief. Sans hovered on the other side, called down from the couch by his brother’s distress. 

Fuku just gawked at the scene, dumbfounded. “Holy crap...Uncle Grillby, what the heck is going on?”

He looked at his niece, at the boys, at the picture covered room. Honestly he had no idea how to even start explaining his life now at this point. Everyone in Snowdin knew - news traveled fast in a small town - so he hadn't even thought about how to explain it. Somewhere in the hullabaloo he had forgotten that his niece would need to know eventually. And now that she was here...he was so overwhelmed that his brain was screeching to a halt.

“Look, I came all the way from school to make sure you were okay,” Fuku sighed, exasperated, her hands on her hips. “I have time for a long story.”

Sans looked at Fuku like he was inspecting her very being. “why are you so mean to mr. grillby?” 

“SANS!” Papyrus reprimanded, peeking his head out from Grillby’s shirt. He was apparently calming down - or else his annoyance temporarily distracted him from his discomfort.

“...sorry…’grillby’.”

Since they were going to be staying with the elemental for the indefinite future, Papyrus had insisted that he and his brother stop referring to their caretaker so formally. It was proving to be an arduous process - possibly made so purposefully by Sans, even though Grillby didn’t like considering it. 

Fuku stared at the older brother, eyes widening in recognition, only to narrow into a glare. Her flames flickered a bit more wildly. “You…”

“oh...yeah, hey,” Sans shrugged at her, his grin looking a tad more cheeky than usual. “didja catch your fridge?” 

Fuku fumed, embers flickering off the top of her head.

Things were starting to make more sense. Grillby recalled Sans reporting a few cases of ‘wrong number’ when he answered the phone. Now it was clear what that really was. There would need to be some new boundaries set up with the phone and a talk with Sans - once Fuku was pacified at least. She looked like she was struggling not to throttle the child, and Grillby couldn't let her do that. 

Papyrus drew away from Grillby, composed again. “EXCUSE ME, LADY...BUT WHO ARE YOU?” 

She blinked. “Fuku. Grillby’s niece.”

“OH. MY NAME IS PAPYRUS, AND THIS IS MY BROTHER SANS.” He pointed to his brother. “WE’RE GRILLBY’S WARS!” 

“think you mean ‘ward's, bro.”

“YEAH. THAT!” Papyrus beamed proudly, like this was a completely normal situation that he was more than happy to be a part of. 

“Wait...so That means…” Fuku’s eyes widened and she turned to her uncle. “You just adopted some kids?”

Grillby sighed. This was definitely gonna be weird to explain.

He motioned them into the living room where they all took a seat; Sans and Fuku on opposite ends of the couch (and with as much room between them as possible), and Grillby and Papyrus sharing the lounge chair on the other side. There wasn't a whole lot of room for Papyrus, and Grillby was sure he'd be more comfortable on the couch, but the boy had chosen the spot after Grillby had already sat down. He wedged himself between the elemental and the chair arm, looking fairly content despite the tight squeeze. 

Now came the hard part. The actual explaining. Grillby was the first to admit that communicating verbally was not his strong suit, but there was really no other way to go about it with this complicated subject. After thinking for a minute, he let himself speak.

“I found them.”

Great. Nailed it. 

“ACTUALLY WE FOUND HIM!” Papyrus corrected. 

“we got lost, and it was cold and we were tired...and we kinda broke into his bar…” Sans admitted, though he sounded more pleased with himself than embarrassed.

“WELL THE DOOR  _ WAS _ UNLOCKED!” 

“...so...then you adopted them?” Fuku said, still not obviously all the way up to speed.

“fostering. we’re being fostered,” Sans explained, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “it's just until the guard finds our dad. right, pap?” 

Papyrus stiffened, then gave a small nod. “R-RIGHT…” 

Sans tilted his head a bit at Papyrus’ lackluster response but didn't say anything about it. 

Fuku squinted at the boys then looked over at Grillby. She was a smart girl, she knew there was more to the story than this. However, this was all he was comfortable sharing in front of the brothers - he’d have to explain the rest when they could be alone. He nodded slightly at her, and she nodded back. She had lived with him long enough to pick up on his nonverbal cues. They'd discuss this more later. 

There was a rumble from the couch. Sans patted his belly. “ah, there goes my nonexistent stomach.”

That's right, they were about to eat before all this. Grillby stood up and walked into the kitchen, setting up the rest of the dinner on the counter. Burgers, buns, and a variety of toppings to choose from. The burgers should still be warm, and he could heat them up again pretty quickly if they needed it. 

Sans and Papyrus seated themselves at the table. Fuku was momentarily distracted by the jar on the mantle above the fireplace, but soon entered the kitchen after them. The boys peered at the food curiously, like they had never seen a burger before. Sans seemed particularly excited by the ketchup, but stayed patiently at his seat regardless.

Fuku approached the counter, turning back to the two of them. “Aren't you guys hungry?”

“...YES?” Papyrus asked, as if the way she questioned him almost made him unsure. 

“Well then come over here, silly! The burgers aren't going to make themselves.”

He got up slowly, peering over the burger ingredients again like they were a foreign concept to him. To Fuku’s credit, she was nothing but patient to him, walking him through the process and answering his questions about each condiment and topping. Grillby figured she caught onto the child’s unfamiliarity quickly - she was pretty perceptive that way, considering how Grillby tended to speak more nonverbally. Sans got up and joined midway through, though it was clear he had already made up his mind about what he wanted. 

Finally they both had a burger ready, Papyrus’ a tad on the sparse side but he had been adamant about his choices. It wasn't as bad as Sans’, who had nothing but a patty and bun absolutely drenched in ketchup. Disgusting, but not at all surprising. 

They all sat at the table, Grillby bringing out a chair for Fuku, and they started eating. 

“so why d’ya have eyes but grillby doesn't?” Sans asked in between bites. 

Fuku shrugged. “I dunno, why can your brother open his mouth but you can't?”

“...touche.” Sans paused. “maybe  _ eye _ just came out wrong, since pap here is perfect.”

“NYEH!” Papyrus huffed, crossing his arms. It wasn't anything particularly out of the ordinary, but it did get Grillby’s attention in his direction. 

“Are you alright, Papyrus?” He asked, looking down at the boy’s nearly untouched plate. 

“IT’S...WEIRD…” Papyrus muttered, looking a bit embarrassed. “IT SQUIRTED OUT...SOMETHING... MAKES MY TUMMY ALL FLIP-FLOPPY.” 

Grillby sighed internally. It was probably the grease. He wracked his brain, trying to think of something he could make quickly to replace the meal. 

Fuku stood up and walked over to the cabinets, rummaging through them. “Aha! You still have some!” She pulled out a small brown packet and a bowl. “Here, Papyrus, pour this in.”

He got up and did as he was told, although he seemed slightly confused. While he emptied the packet into the bowl, Fuku grabbed a measuring cup and filled it halfway with water - all without wearing any protective gloves. Grillby froze, watching her every move with complete focus, ready to run up and help her if she needed. 

She turned to see his worried state and shook her head. “Honestly, Grillby, I do this all the time at school. I only need to cover myself if I get stuck with dish duty.”

The very fact that a dorm would assign a flame to dish duty made Grillby feel a bit sick, but he knew Fuku didn't like being treated like she was...well, exstinguishable. For all he knew she actually insisted on getting a job that would keep her in close contact with water just to prove a point. It sounded like her. 

She held a finger under the cup, slowly warming it. Papyrus was inspecting the contents of the bowl skeptically. 

“WHAT IS IT?” He asked finally. 

“Oatmeal. And see the little white bits?” 

He nodded. 

“Those are dinosaur eggs!” 

Papyrus cocked his head to the side. “WHAT’S A DINOSAUR?” 

“It’s...well it’s like a giant lizard monster that used to live on the surface a long time ago. They were big and strong!” She explained excitedly. 

“OH...COOL!” Papyrus said, growing excited. 

“Now here, watch this!” 

Grillby held his breath as Fuku gently poured the water in the bowl. None of it splashed out, and he instantly relaxed. She found a spoon in the drawer and handed it to Papyrus. 

“You gotta stir it up quickly, think you can do that?” 

“YEAH!” He immediately went to task, perhaps a bit too vigorously. The oatmeal threatened to spill over the sides of its container. 

“Ok, ok that's enough there bud!” Fuku said with a nervous laugh, taken aback by the over the top fervor. “Now let’s take a look at what we got.” 

Papyrus eyes darted around the bowl in anticipation, until he finally found his prize. “A DINOSAUR!!” He lifted the spoon to reveal one of many little colored dinosaur candies mixed into the oats. 

“Wow you hatched them all by yourself! Good work!” Fuku praised.

His brother gave him a thumbs up from his seat. “you did a dino-mite job there.”

“SANS!”

“Ok!” Fuku clapped her hands together. “Now you get to eat it!” 

Papyrus blinked, all the excitement suddenly draining from him. “I’M GONNA...EAT THE DINOSAURS?” He looked absolutely horrified. 

“Uh...yeah…” Fuku said slowly. She turned to Grillby for support but he just shrugged. She thought for a moment. “If...if you don’t...they’ll grow all big, and then they’ll eat you!” 

She waved her hands around to prove her point. The child gasped and took a half step back. 

“But!” She added, toning it down a but. “If  _ you  _ eat them, then they’ll live in your belly and stay nice and small. And then you’ll grow big and strong instead!” 

Papyrus frowned. “THEY’LL LIVE IN MY STOMACH?” 

“...they like dark, moist places, ok?” 

Her patience was starting to run thin. 

Papyrus seemed to consider this. Then he nodded energetically. “OKAY! I’LL EAT LOTS AND LOTS SO I’LL BE BIG AND STRONG AND THE DINOSAURS WON’T EAT ME OR YOU OR SANS OR GRILLBY! I’LL PROTECT EVERYONE!” 

Fuku watched him, slowly smiling with her eyes. “Oh, you really are just the cutest thing, aren't you?” 

Without warning she squatted down and hugged him around his shoulders. The response was almost immediate. The boy stiffened and pulled away, looking up at Fuku like she had physically hurt him. 

Shoot. Grillby should have found a way to explain this part earlier. 

She straightened up quickly, looking at Papyrus then to Grillby in bewilderment. “W-What...what did I do?” 

“pap doesn’t like people touching him,” Sans explained. “it feels too much.” 

Grillby had come to realize this himself over the past few weeks. Papyrus would recoil if touched by anything unexpected, whether it be another monster, a tree branch, even tags on certain clothing set him off. The only things he always seemed comfortable around was Sans, his blanket, and his gloves. Sans had explained that his brother’s hands in particular ‘felt the most’, which is why he never removed the covers, not even for a bath. Despite all this, Sans never acted like something was wrong with Papyrus, just that he was unique and ‘cool’. It made the whole thing a lot more confusing. 

“But...but Uncle Grillby...earlier you…” She made a rubbing motion in the air.

She hadn’t noticed his indecision, his hesitance to comfort the child in that way only to potentially make it worse; it was only when Papyrus had leaned into him that he knew it was something the boy was okay with. Grillby had yet to make Papyrus uncomfortable with unwanted contact and he wasn’t going to if he could help it. 

“grillby is special,” Sans shrugged. He left it at that, plain and simple. Even Grillby didn’t know what that meant. 

There was a small noise from Papyrus. Everyone turned to him immediately. He looked around, obviously uneased, but intent on saying something. He swallowed.

“...I’M SORRY, MISS FUKU…” He started, sounding suddenly very small. “IT JUST...IT SCARED ME AND...YOU DIDN’T KNOW…” He looked to the floor. “I DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE YOU UPSET...” 

“No...no, I didn’t mean to make you...feel too much,” Fuku insisted. “Usually people like hugs.”

“...MAYBE NEXT TIME IF YOU ASK I’LL LIKE IT TOO,” Papyrus suggested.

“Ok, I’ll make sure to ask,” Fuku nodded. 

They returned to the table, Fuku still a bit flustered after the whole ordeal. The boys didn’t make a big fuss over what happened though; in fact, it was never brought up again the rest of the dinner. They instead pestered Fuku with all sorts of questions about her school, what a school even was like honestly. That was something that was easy for her to yap on about for a long time, flipping back and forth from being excited about her studies to loathing every minute of it. Grillby knew she was thriving there though. It was much more enriching than the high school she would have attended at Snowdin, not to mention the fact that she hated living here. 

When they were finished, Grillby collected all the dirty dishes. He paused at Papyrus’ bowl, which was nearly spotless. 

Papyrus smiled up at him. “DON’T WORRY, I TOOK CARE OF ALL THE DINOSAURS.” 

The dishes were stacked neatly in the sink. Grillby stood there for a moment, realizing he might need to tell Fuku some more things now before she accidentally set off anything else, but not sure how to do it. 

“Hey, boys, why don’t you go upstairs and get ready for bed? Uncle Grillby and I will clean and be up in a bit,” Fuku offered.

“AND THEN WE CAN ALL READ A STORY!?” Papyrus asked excitedly.

She nodded. “Sure thing!” 

He ran up to his room without anymore questions, Sans dragging a bit behind him.

“...thanks,” Grillby said once they were alone. 

Fuku stared at him, looking more serious than she had in years. Her voice came out soft and scared. “Uncle Grillby...what is going on?” 

“...we don’t know exactly…” Grillby admitted. “...the guard thinks they were abused.”

“What!?” She hissed, struggling to keep her voice down. “...the...the ‘dad’?” 

He nodded solemnly. Stars, it still made him sick to think about it. 

“Holy crap...that’s...that’s so messed up…” She leaned against the counter and shook her head, as if it would remove the negative thoughts from her mind.“So you’re really taking care of them? Forever?” 

“Most likely.” 

“...I don’t think Sans is too thrilled about that.”

Grillby winced. It wasn’t like the boy’s thoughts on the matter wasn’t plain to see, but it stung to be reminded of it. He honestly didn’t blame Sans for feeling that way either. Right now Sans’ hope was to find his dad, and he was clever enough to realize that being fostered by Grillby meant the likelihood of the guard locating his father now was slim. It could be worse, though. What would he do if he knew the guard’s current working theory about his ‘dad’? Grillby didn’t even want to think about it.

They stood there in silence for what seemed like a hours, the heavy dialogue weighing down on them both. 

“...hey, I’m sorry about...you know, barging in here and almost blowing up like that…” Fuku said quietly. “When you didn’t answer though, no matter how many times I called...stars, I was so scared.”

Grillby tilted his head a bit, confused by her worry. 

That seemed to frustrate her. “You don’t...you don’t talk about it, Uncle Grillby. You don’t talk about anything! The surface, my parents,  _ your  _ sister.... so many monsters died that day, and I was lucky. I was still a baby ember. I don’t remember that at all. But you had to carry that all this time...and...and then...” Her eyes drifted over toward the fireplace, toward the jar on the mantle. “You went back to work the next day. You didn’t even close down the bar...you never talked about it.” She paused, sighing softly. “I met with the school counselor for weeks...I still go to talk to her from time to time. It’s...it's healthy to talk about these things and you don’t and then you didn’t answer the phone and for a second I...I thought…” She took a shaky breath. 

Grillby watched her, not sure what to do. He had never seen her so upset about anything before, and she was one of the most emotional monsters he knew. Something bristled inside of him. While he understood what she was saying, he couldn’t say he understood her concern. He was fine. He had always been fine. Why did everyone around him need to constantly insist something was wrong with him? 

But if talking would make her feel better, then he’d talk. He did have some worries of his own that he could share with her. 

“...do you think I can raise them?” 

Fuku gave him a funny look. He wasn’t sure if she was bothered by his changing the subject or if she was surprised that he was actually willing to divulge some personal feelings to her. “I mean I turned out pretty okay, I think.”

“I didn’t do that alone.”

“You’re right. But you had a really good teacher.”

He supposed she had a point there. 

“You know, Uncle Grillby? The kids...I think this is gonna help you as much as you help them.” She started running water for the dishes to soak in. “It’ll keep the house from being so darn empty. Guess I won’t have to move back in after all.”

Grillby stared at her nonplussed.

“...okay, fine, I was never moving back to this icicle….but I was considering it for awhile.” 

He wanted to doubt that, but the revelation of her anxiety about his mental wellbeing made it likely to be true. 

Papyrus’ voice echoed down from the top floor. “MISS FUKU? WE’RE ALL READY FOR A STORY!” 

“We’re being summoned,” Fuku said amusedly. She paused, her demeanor growing serious again. “...maybe we can talk again like this later? Maybe about...something else?” She gave a sideways glance to the jar again. 

Grillby looked away, staring at his opaque reflection in the rippling sink water. “...maybe.” 

Fuku stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.” A small sigh of relief. “Well, c’mon now. Let’s not keep them waiting.” 

She climbed the stairs, leaving Grillby in the kitchen by himself. His soul felt heavy in his chest, and he did everything he could to push it aside. He had ignored for months now, he could keep on at it. And now with the kids as another distraction, maybe Fuku was right about that at least, maybe it would be good for him. 

He didn’t need to talk about it. He was fine. 

Another lie.

His head throbbed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that Papyrus' favorite food is dinosaur oatmeal (even if it was just in the tumblr asks) makes me very happy - its still my preferred type of oatmeal to this day.


	6. The "D" Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus and Grillby have an important conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kinda fast paced I tried to slow it down

A light layer of snow was sticking to the window, but it was warm and cozy inside of the bar. Doggo stuffed his face with food, licking off his lips to catch any spare crumbs.

“Ah...Grillby, I missed this so much,” he hummed after swallowing.

It had only been two weeks that the bar was closed, but apparently it's temporary loss had made quite the impression on the town. Grillby didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, he was always going to have a demand and thus always stay in business comfortably. On the other, closing it down for too long might cause society to break down. Or so the patrons who had visited the past few days made it seem.

Doggo sighed contentedly, patting his stomach. He looked around suddenly, peering out with shifty eyes. He reached into his pocket. A sliver of a dog treat peeked out from the fabric.

Grillby put his hand down hard on the table, clutching a dishrag. The dog almost fell back out of his seat.

“Stars, Grillby! I forgot you were standing there!” He yipped, quickly stuffing the treat back in his pocket. More like Grillby had been stockstill and with his patron’s poor eyesight he had been nearly invisible. Honestly, though, Doggo knew his policy on treats in the bar. He shouldn’t have even tried to do that here.

There was an awkward stretch of time as Doggo fished out the proper amount of gold for the meal. He set it down sheepishly, thanked him for the food, and dashed out, no doubt running late for his sentry duty. Grillby sighed, wiping off the table and grabbing the dirty dish. One day that dog would learn.

With Doggo gone that left the establishment free of customers. He walked back to the other side of the counter, deposited the dish and started getting to work. Once he grabbed everything he needed, he combined seasoning and other ingredients with a large amount of raw hamburger in a mixing bowl. He had meant to have enough patties ready ahead of time but he was surprised to have the restaurant slammed during lunch and dinner ever since he reopened. There was still a few hours before the dinner rush would start and the building was mercifully quiet, finally, so he was getting the prep done now. Normally he would spend the night and early mornings making some things in advance, but having the boys was making that a bit more difficult. He would have to work out a new system to accommodate this, and until then he would just go by the seat of his pants.

Speaking of the boys…

He peered over the counter. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to Bonny’s?”

Papyrus barely even looked up from the puzzle game he was working on. “I’M SURE.”

The first few days the bar had been opened, Grillby had dropped him off with his brother at Bonny’s to play with the kids. It hadn’t taken long for Sans to decide he didn’t like it, and after some persuading and arranging with the librarbian he now spent his days researching at the librarby - according to the librarbian, he was very interested in quantum physics, magic, and the history of the underground. What he could be doing with all that knowledge, Grillby couldn’t even imagine. The boy read books at a level that was difficult for most adults to understand. He was obviously looking for answers to something. Maybe it was just easier to escape into this realm of science than face whatever they had come from.

Papyrus seemed fine going to Bonny’s on his own, but suddenly yesterday he requested to stay with Grillby instead. It struck Grillby as odd and very uncharacteristic of the child. Even now he seemed distracted. The new game definitely attracted his attention; it was a small plastic grid with little cars and trucks of various sizes and one narrow exit point. There were different car positions planned out on small cards, and you had to solve each configuration, making ways for the little red car to make it out through the exit by moving the other cars around. There were even challenges listed, trying to solve the puzzles in the fewest amount of moves. It was right up Papyrus’ alley, and he seemed to enjoy it, but it was taking him considerably more time to do than the day before. Sometimes he would just stop and stare at the pieces in front of him, like something was weighing on his mind.

“Wasn’t it fun?” Grillby asked, mixing the meat mixture further, kneading it with his hands.

“IT WAS…” Papyrus admitted. “BUT I THINK THEY HAD TOO MANY PEOPLE TO PLAY WITH. SO MANY THAT THEY FORGOT I WAS THERE SOMETIMES! THERE ARE TWENTY FOUR BUNNY KIDS AFTER ALL - I MUST JUST GET LOST IN ALL THE FUZZY EARS.”

Grillby stopped mixing. He didn’t know what to say. Peter and his brother seemed to get along well with Papyrus when they first met, had something changed? Or maybe...maybe Papyrus was right. Grillby knew Bonny’s house had to be absolute chaos, and chaos often made Papyrus withdraw a bit. Perhaps he did get overlooked in all the hubbub? Either way, the idea of Papyrus being ignored for any reason made his soul hurt.

“...if you had that many siblings, you might even forget Sans from time to time,” Grillby joked weakly.

Papyrus’ head shot up from his puzzle, his gaze deadly serious. “I’D NEVER FORGET SANS.”

Even if they were in the fantasy situation described, Grillby could tell that Papyrus meant every word. That power of earnestness was hard not to believe.

The boy tried to get back to his puzzle, but it was clear he was still not feeling up to snuff. The solution was two moves away, something even puzzle amateurs would realize, but he made no effort to complete it, aimlessly pushing the green truck back and forth. Grillby watched painfully, until finally he realized what he’d do in this situation; he’d work.

“Do you want to help me?” He asked.

 Papyrus’ eyes lit up. “YOU MEAN BE A CHEF!?”

Grillby nodded. No more prompting was needed. Leaving his blanket behind, Papyrus threw himself off the stool and skidded around the bar counter, looking energized for the first time this morning, more like his usual self. Once in place he hopped about from one foot to the other, ready to hear what his responsibilities were going to be. A pair of laytex gloves were handed in his direction, which led to a confused look.

“Over your gloves,” Grillby instructed. He didn’t want any fuzz to get into the hamburger mix, and he was pretty sure Papyrus wouldn’t want any of the meat juice to stain his gloves either.

While Papyrus put them on, Grillby went into the closet and found the stepstool as well as an apron. Once back, Papyrus displayed his double-gloved hands proudly. Grillby motioned for him to hold his arms out, then tied the apron around him gently. It took some adjusting with the shoulder straps and folding the end of the the fabric that was dragging on the floor into the pocket, but eventually it fit Papyrus the best it could.  The stool was set in front of the counter, and the newly designated sous chef climbed atop it, turning to his head chef to get his instructions for tonight’s menu.

“Watch closely,” Grillby said. He took a small handful of the meat mixture and rolled it into a ball. “Make sure they are all the same size.”

Papyrus nodded seriously, like he had been given a very important task. Even though they had only been living together for a few weeks, it was apparent that Papyrus was very particular about organization and messes. The boys’ room was almost spotless, everything in a proper place. Even if Sans did as much as leave out a dirty sock, Papyrus would make sure it was picked up, folded, and categorized in the laundry basket - not before giving his brother a scolding. Toys and books were displayed in tidy manner according to color and size. It was an odd tic but at least it kept the house tidied up and presentable. With that in mind, Grillby knew this job was perfect for Papyrus.

He placed the ball of meat down onto the counter. “Then press each one down with your palm, until it's this thick,” Grillby indicated with his fingers.

“OKAY! JUST CALL ME PA-PATTY-RUS!” He exclaimed, puffing out his chest and laughing a triumphant ‘NYEH HEH HEH!’.

Grillby nearly did a double take

“...a pun?”

“UH...YEAH?” Papyrus replied, surprised at the reaction his wordplay received. It was almost like he didn’t realize he made a fuss any time his brother tried to do the exact same thing he just did.

Grillby tilted his head. “You hate puns.”

“OH…” He looked away, deflating from all the bravado earlier. His fingers rubbed against each other as he considered what to say. “I ONLY DON’T LIKE SANS’ PUNS...IT MAKES ME SAD WHEN HE SAYS THEM...AND IT HURTS HERE.”

He patted his chest. Where his soul was. Grillby didn’t know what all of it meant, but it just added to the list of abnormal behaviors the kids had that pointed to troubling conclusions. He decided to file away the information to process later. It was better than dwelling in it now and getting upset over what could be nothing.

The boy got to work, taking out some of the meat and inspecting the size alongside Grillby’s example. Feeling confident in Papyrus’ ability, Grillby turned around to prep the potatoes. They needed to be cleaned and cut uniformly into strips so he could make his fries - and with the crowds he was getting he was going to need a lot of them. The fries to burger ratio was a staggering number, and he couldn’t afford to run out of potato strips to fry too quickly. Since he was cook and barkeep he had the wonderful pleasure of juggling food and drink production as well as hosting and small talk. Everyone wanted to tell Grillby everything; they claimed he was easy to talk to, probably because he didn’t say much back. It was a job he dearly loved but one that was proving increasingly difficult. Doing a one man show in a circus originally built for two was indeed quite a feat.   

Thoughts wandered as he started cutting off the potato eyes. Their homelife was starting to fall into a comfortable rhythm, but he knew it wasn’t going to last. With school a month away and Sans continuing to distance himself, things would start to shake up a bit; he figured at this point he would have to cut hours at the bar and potentially close on sundays to give the brothers the attention they deserved. That wasn’t even considering the therapist he still hadn’t called yet. The business card sat on his bedside table ominously, waiting to be used, mocking him with how little he could really provide for these kids. All the food and warmth in the world wasn’t going to magically make their past and the adverse effects of it disappear.

He wasn’t much good for anyone who needed him.

Without warning, the pounding started in his head again. No gradual pain, just a sharp and sudden flash that continued on in waves. It nearly made him nauseous. Suddenly everything in the room was working against him. The lights were too bright. The clock on the wall was ticking too loud. The food smelled too much. He took a deep breath and put a hand against his temple as he leaned against the counter. It would pass. It always did.

A hard tug on his elbow brought him back to reality. Papyrus was standing next to him, looking up in concern.

“I...I FINISHED,” He said slowly. “BUT...UM...ARE YOU OKAY?”    

“...I’m fine,” Grillby insisted.

Papyrus didn’t seem so convinced. His brow furrowed, deep in thought. Suddenly he motioned for Grillby to get closer. The flame elemental knelt down, almost at eye level with his ward. Little gloved hands reached out and placed themselves on his forehead and cheek.

Papyrus waited a bit, pressing against him lightly, then frowned. “...I CAN’T TELL IF YOU ARE TOO HOT OR NOT…”

Grillby couldn’t help it. A small chuckle escaped out. “It’s just a headache.”

“OH. YOU GET THOSE A LOT.”

He didn’t realize they were that noticeable.

Papyrus’ hands remained on his face. Grillby resisted the urge to pull away, to cut off the physical contact before the boy had an adverse reaction like he usually did. “You don’t have to keep doing that.”

“HUH? WHY?” Papyrus asked.

“If it…‘feels too much’,” Grillby elaborated.

Papyrus blinked. “I NEVER FEEL TOO MUCH WITH YOU. YOU’RE WARM...AND SAFE AND...SOFT?” He smiled, his hands going down to his side. “LIKE MY BLANKET!”

Grillby barely had a moment to process this revelation before the skeleton spoke up again, softer this time.

“GRILLBY...CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING?” His smile had run away from his face. He looked paler than usual and nervous. Very nervous.

Grillby nodded, dread welling up inside of him.

“UM...SO I WAS TALKING WITH PETER THE OTHER DAY...AND HE SAID IT WAS WEIRD THAT I HAD NO PARENTS...BUT…” His gaze was fixed on a random spot on the floor, his fingers rubbing together furiously. He took a shaky breath. “BUT...A DAD IS SOMEONE YOU LOVE WHO LOVES YOU BACK AND TAKES CARE OF YOU AND HELPS YOU DO THINGS SO...AREN’T YOU OUR DAD?”

For a moment everything seemed to stop. Even the headache managed to disappear in an instant. Instead, now Grillby felt his chest tightening, his soul pulsating so quickly it could explode.

Papyrus loved him.

Papyrus loved him?

He always knew that the boy liked him, though he seemed to like everyone he met. But this wasn’t the same. This was something far deeper. And then the question that had followed…

That warm, indescribable feeling returned, filling every inch of Grillby, threatening to overflow. He did what the king advised. He followed it.

“Do you want me to be?” Grillby asked softly.

Papyrus stared at him, falling still. His eyes watered as his head started nodding, slow and small at first but gradually growing in intensity. Then he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Grillby’s midsection and squeezing hard as he sobbed into his apron.

There was so much Grillby wanted to say - that it was all okay, he loved him too, he was going to do his best to be the dad they deserved, there was no need to cry this should be happy - but his voice failed him. Instead he rubbed the boy’s back, humming as gently as he could.

It took a few minutes, but the crying died down. Papyrus drew back a bit, wiping his eyes and smiling up at Grillby.

“HI, DAD.”

Grillby felt like he was going to burst.

“Hi, Papyrus.”

He breathed in slowly, suddenly realizing the rub in this situation.

“You can’t call me that in front of Sans.”

“WHAT? WHY NOT?” Papyrus winced, like he had been slapped.

Stars, Grillby could feel the pain in his soul too. He didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. He wanted to go out and proclaim into all the Underground that these were his sons, that he was their dad - but that was the problem. Sons. Papyrus was more than okay with this but Sans obviously was still having trouble with Grillby even having legal custody over them. He didn’t want to hurt Sans by just pushing this on him suddenly. Sans had to choose his dad as well, as much as that pained Grillby to think about.

“...his puns make you sad, right?” He prompted. Papyrus nodded. “This would make him sad.”

“OH…” Papyrus’ face fell a bit, but it brightened again almost immediately. “IT’S OKAY! HE’LL WANT TO CALL YOU DAD ONE DAY TOO, I KNOW IT!”

He said it with such conviction, it was hard not to hope along with him.

They just stared at each other for a moment, Papyrus grinning widely while Grillby stood there, suddenly concerned. It was the weirdest sensation. With that short conversation something big had happened. Their homelife dynamic had been irrevocably altered. Things were different now, right? He was supposed to do something different now, wasn’t he? More ‘father’-like? He realized in horror that he had no idea how to even be that kind of person. It wasn’t a mantle one took up lightly, and he had accepted the role in a heartbeat without even thinking about the consequences. And with all the standards he would have to live up to…

“OKAY, WHAT DO I DO NEXT?” Papyrus motioned over to the uncooked patties, ready to move on to the next step in the process.

The anxiety lightened. Without a second though Grillby walked over to the counter and started on instructing him further. So that was it? Just going back to what they were doing before? It was odd but it also felt...right. This was how it was supposed to be. This was how it always was? He held back a laugh. Apparently he had always been a dad to them, it just took Papyrus asking for him to realize it.

Stars, he loved them so much.


	7. Doctor Hooo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doctor is in!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the support guys! I literally finished writing this one with a quick edit pass yesterday, which means the next chapter may be delayed some. I have some freelance work and convention prep to do, but I've been writing this during my part time job so we'll see how that goes.
> 
> Also, the therapist is gonna do some slightly problematic things this chapter, and I'm not doing that to reflect poorly on therapists or anything - in fact I have one and she is wonderful - but one of the themes of the adults in this story is 'good people who are trying to do the right thing'. So keep that in mind when anyone does anything problematic in the future too - its not condoned at all, but its not a reflection of bad character either

The brothers watched curiously as the large owl monster set down his sizeable leather case on the coffee table. When Grillby imagined the therapist, a round downfeathered pincushion was not what he had in mind. And yet, looking at the doctor now, he seemed the perfect image of a therapist recommended by King ‘Fluffybuns’. He moved slowly and meticulously, as if he was letting everyone see what he was doing, opening one side of the case and taking out a file folder.

“so…’hooo’ are you again?” Sans asked, leaning against the couch.

The owl smiled warmly back at him. “Dr. Blathers. But you can call me ‘Doc’.”

“i’m sans.” The boy stepped forward and reached out his hand. Dr. Blathers gladly took it, only to be met with a long, wet sound of flatulence. “but you can call me ‘the legendary fartmaster’.” 

Grillby knew he should have insisted on Sans picking out something else at the store, but he had been dead set on the whoopee cushion as soon as he set eyes on it. Now almost everyone they had come across in Snowdin was subject to his prank. It was getting old pretty quick. 

Dr. Blathers didn’t seem to think so, though. He blinked, then hooted with laughter. Sans appeared especially pleased with himself, grin widening. 

“And what should I call you?” The doctor asked, turning to the younger brother.

“PAPYRUS,” The boy answered. “I ONLY HAVE ONE NAME.”

“Papyrus it is then.”

Grillby felt a lot of his apprehension fade as the boys continued to interact with the owl. Honestly, he had been dreading this day, but he knew it was necessary. School was starting up soon, and while they didn’t show signs of behavioral issues, Grillby wanted to make sure they were ready to be in a social setting like that, among other things. Finding answers to their memory issues and any other unseen mental scars would also be prefered. Anything Grillby couldn’t fix himself.

He had broke down and called the therapist yesterday and was able to set up an in-house appointment; considering the office was in New Home, it wouldn’t be wise to bring the boys there. Although it was last minute, he closed the bar down for the day in case the session didn’t go well. Everyone seemed very understanding when he broke the news last night, which was better than he thought. That just left telling the boys about it. He did the best he could to explain to them that someone was going to come and talk to them about the incident that brought them to Snowdin, to try and make them feel better about it. They were okay with it, even if he was sure they didn’t really understand what it meant at all.

Dr. Blathers straightened up. “Alright, now I want to get to know all of you a bit better. We’re going to talk and play some games; sound like fun?” Both of them nodded. “Good! Now, while I’m here you guys are the boss. You make the rules. So, if you like, we can talk one on one, or in a group if that would make you more comfortable. So what about you, Legendary Fartmaster? Are you comfortable for a one on one?” 

The wording was slightly manipulative, and it made Grillby a tad uneasy. They had discussed this earlier on the phone though: Papyrus didn’t want to upset his brother, so he wouldn’t speak freely if they were counselled together. The best way to help them both was to put them in an environment where they could share everything if they wanted to. Dr. Blathers wasn’t one to force them to have one on one counseling either, but apparently he wasn’t above subtly manipulating. 

Sans thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “i can talk by myself.”

“Alright then,” Dr. Blathers turned to Grillby and Papyrus. “If you wouldn’t mind going upstairs? I’ll get you when it’s your turn.” 

Grillby nodded, leading Papyrus up the stairs, the boy’s blanket dragging behind them. They entered the brother’s room and Grillby shut the door gently behind him. He went over to sit on the bed, only to notice that Papyrus had stopped still soon after walking into the room.

“Are you okay?” He asked, trying not to get overly concerned.

Papyrus looked up at him, confused. “WHY ISN’T DR. COTTONTAIL HERE? ISN’T SHE OUR DOCTOR?”

“She is,” Grillby assured. He thought about the best way to explain it. “She makes sure your body is healthy, Dr. Blathers makes sure your emotions are healthy.”

It was a bit of an oversimplification, but he figured Papyrus would understand the gist of it. He also found it favorable to stating that something may be wrong with their brains. Therapy was more than that, and he didn’t want them under that stigma yet.

“EMOTIONS...CAN GET SICK?” Papyrus tilted his head, then his eyes widened comically, almost bulging out of his sockets. “DID HAPPINESS CATCH MY COLD!?” 

Grillby held back a laugh. “They don’t get sick that way.”

“OH…” He shuffled a little, nervously. “WILL...WILL I HAVE TO TAKE OFF MY GLOVES? LIKE...LIKE LAST TIME?”

“Dr. Blathers said you’re the boss, right? You won’t do anything you don’t want to do.” 

That seemed to calm him down. He let out a sigh and plopped down on the chair by the desk, the newest additions to the room’s furnishings. A half-finished puzzle was laid on top of it, unused pieces piled in stacks according to some criteria Grillby didn’t understand. They had picked it up at the store (the same trip that brought home the whoopee cushion) and while Grillby had worried that a thousand pieces was too advanced for his age, Papyrus was working through it like a breeze. 

Sans had even attempted to sabotage his brother’s work and that didn’t slow him down a bit. One day the puzzle pieces had all been flipped upside down, making it impossible to see the picture of a cat Papyrus was supposed to be forming. And yet he didn’t even bat an eye at the disruption, continuing to solve the puzzle upside down like nothing had changed. Grillby had made Sans put it back right side up later, and the boy had been too impressed by his brother’s skill and nonchalance to even protest. Grillby estimated it would be done by this evening. He’d have to find some more puzzles.

They waited upstairs for nearly half an hour, Grillby growing more restless by the minute. He didn’t like the idea of Sans being questions without him there, flashing back to when the boy broke down with those hollow eyes during the Dogi’s interrogation. Although he knew if something happened Dr. Blathers would come get him...it still made him uneasy.  

Finally, there was a soft knock at the door. 

“COME IN!” Papyrus called.

Dr. Blathers entered with a big smile on his face, carrying his bag. “Your brother and I are finished, so now it's your turn! You can have Grillby stay here if you like or we can talk alone.”

Without hesitation Papyrus jumped down from the chair and almost threw himself onto Grillby’s lap. “I WANT HIM HERE.”

The owl’s smiled softened. “Alright then.” He looked the room over, eyes stopping over the desk. “You like puzzles?”

“PUZZLES ARE MY FAVORITE!” Papyrus affirmed. “I HAVE A LOT OF DIFFERENT ONES!”

He pointed over to the bin in the corner, filled with different puzzle-type toys: the car one, a penguin peg-hopping game, and a game where you create traps to catch mice. That last one was Papyrus’ favorite  by far - he loved outsmarting Sans and Grillby, even if it wasn’t through the game’s conventional methods. New rules were constantly being added, giving additional functions to the pieces like force fields and slippery tiles. Sans had started writing them down so Papyrus wouldn’t have to explain each time.

“I see! Well then, I think I have something you would like.” Dr. Blathers reached into his bag and brought out a multi-colored cube. “This is a Rubik’s cube. You turn the pieces around to try and get each side to only have one color.” He demonstrated how to move the layers. “If you want, you can play with it while we talk.”

Papyrus stared at the new toy in awe, nodding energetically. Dr. Blathers stepped forward and passed it over. The boy started to twist it about, eyes widening as he went. 

“WOW…THANKS, DOC!” 

“So, Papyrus, is there anything you want to talk about?” The therapist asked.

Papyrus blinked, barely looking up from the cube as he experimented with moving each row and column about. “I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO TALK ABOUT THE EARTHQUAKE.” 

“We can talk about that, if you’d like,” Dr. Blathers offered.

“...IT WAS SCARY. THE GROUND WAS ALL RUMBLY AND THINGS WERE FALLING DOWN EVERYWHERE. SANS HELD ONTO ME VERY TIGHT.” He took a quick breath. “THERE WAS A LOT OF YELLING AND OTHER LOUD BEEPING NOISES. I KEPT TRYING TO COVER MY EARS BUT THEN I REMEMBERED I DON’T HAVE ANY…I TOLD SANS I WANTED TO LEAVE BUT I DON’T THINK HE COULD HEAR ME. THEN HE DID HIS SCARY EYES AND WE CAME TO SNOWDIN.”  

It was a story Grillby knew by now, but there were definitely more details than before; Sans’ ‘scary eyes’ chief among them. He had no idea what Papyrus meant by that...unless he was referring to the dark sockets that Grillby had seen on the boy one too many times.

Dr. Blathers nodded, jotting down some notes in a legal pad. “And this happened at your home?”

“NO,” Papyrus shook his head adamantly. “SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE HOT PLACE...INSIDE WITH A RED BUBBLE FLOOR.”

“So where was your home?”

Papyrus’ browbone furrowed as he stared intently at the Rubik’s cube. “I...I DON’T…” He paused, searching for the answer as if it was just out of reach. Frustrated tears were starting to well up in his sockets.

“Let’s try something else: What do you think of when someone says ‘home’?” The doctor offered.

“HERE,” the boy answered, without any hesitation or deliberation. “WITH GRILLBY.”

Grillby’s breath hitched as pride swelled inside of him.

“Then what comes up when you think of Grillby?” The owl asked.

“HE’S NICE AND KEEPS ME SAFE AND I LOVE HIM.” He looked up at Grillby with a big smile on his face. “HE’S MY DAD!”

It took a lot of self control not to smother the boy in cuddles right then and there.

Dr. Blathers smiled at them, though the expression was twinged with sadness. “Have you ever felt that way with anyone else?”

Papyrus thought for a moment, then shook his head. “JUST GRILLBY.”

“Ok.” More notes were written down. “Now, with the earthquake, how did you feel then?”

“SCARED...REALLY SCARED. IT WAS TOO LOUD...BUT WHEN WE CAME HERE IT STOPPED AND I FELT BETTER,” He explained. “I DIDN’T KNOW WHY IT GOT COLD SO I ASKED SANS BUT HE WAS ASLEEP. AGAIN. HE ALWAYS DOES THAT!”

This was another new detail to the story and it bothered Grillby a bit. 

The doctor seemed fixated on it too. “He fell asleep in the snow?”

A nod. “HE WAS LYING DOWN WHEN WE GOT THERE. I THOUGHT HE WAS TRICKING ME BUT I EVEN PINCHED HIS FINGER AND HE DIDN’T MOVE!”

Grillby could tell that Dr. Blathers wanted to explore this further but they both knew it wouldn’t amount to much; the boy could barely explain how the two of them got to Snowdin, and he thought that Sans had decided to fall asleep as soon as they got there. As much as Sans liked his naps, Grillby doubted he would fall asleep of his own volition after all that had happened.

The owl tried a different approach. “Sans sleeping seems to make you angry. Why do you think that is?”

“HE DOES IT ALL THAT TIME!” Papyrus said, exasperated. “I DON’T EVEN LIKE SLEEPING...AND…” He slowed down, voice growing soft. “WHEN HE’S ASLEEP...I’M ALL ALONE…” A pause, then he brightened up again. “NOT ANYMORE THOUGH! NOW THERE’S DAD!” 

For a brief moment he set the cube down on his lap and took hold of Grillby’s hands, squeezing them like he was afraid the elemental was going to disappear. Grillby hardly had the time to process the act before Papyrus was clutching the cube again, well on his way to solving one of the colored faces. While Grillby didn’t understand the gesture, and thinking about the motivation possibilities made him sick, he did know one thing: He was always going to be here for this boy. He would never let him feel alone again.

After taking some notes, Dr. Blathers looked around the rooms at the drawings decorating the walls. “I see someone is an artist!”

“YEAH! I LOVE TO DRAW PICTURES!” Papyrus answered.

“You seem really good at it too!”

The child beamed, cheeks growing slightly rosy.

Dr. Blathers reached into his bag and retrieved some paper and a container of markers. “Do you think you could draw some for me?”

“YEAH!” He exclaimed, hopping off of Grillby’s lap and dashing over to the floor, where the owl was setting up the art supplies. He marveled at all the different color selections he had to work with. 

“I’m going to say a word or phrase, and you draw it out. You can take as much time as you need. Understand?” Dr. Blathers explained.

Papyrus nodded eagerly, and they promptly got to work.

“Let’s start simple: You, Papyrus.”

A little skeleton in a striped sweater, gloves, and a bright smiles, holding a blanket.

“Your family.”

Two skeletons in stripes with an orange flame in the middle. The skeleton in blue was noticeably further away from the flame than his brother.

“Your house.”

He reused the picture from before, putting walls and a roof around the monsters, along with a couch, fireplace, and a table. There was a sock on the floor at one point, but he quickly scribbled it out.

“Ok, how about the earthquake?”

This one took a lot longer, Papyrus hesitating from time to time. Two skeletons were huddled in the bottom corner in what appeared to be a box. On the outside was a road of some sorts on top of a sea of red. Monsters stood on it, but it was almost impossible to define what sort of monsters they were. The bodies twisted and almost seemed to melt, and they were all a dull shade of grey. Several of them looked like they were falling off the road. The boy with the blanket was crying, while the other boy’s eyes were dark, save for a blue dot in both his sockets.

This one worried Grillby the most.

“Alright! Last one! Draw one thing you would wish for.”

Papyrus barely had to think before he started drawing, In the end it was very similar to his ‘family’ drawing, except the smaller skeleton and the flame were hugging the blue skeleton, who was hugging them back. He had a huge smile on his face, much bigger than any of the other pictures thus far. 

“Oh, I really like this one. So your wish is to have the three of you together?” Dr. Blathers asked.

“NO.” Papyrus shook his head. “I JUST WANT SANS TO BE HAPPY.”

The doctor blinked. “What makes your think your brother isn’t happy?” 

“...HE CRIES AT NIGHT A LOT,” he mumbled. “I USED TO TOO, BUT NOT ANYMORE. I’M NOT A BABYBONES!”

The thought of either of them crying in their beds made Grillby nauseous. How could that happen when he was there? Did he just not hear it? He was only a room over, and the walls weren’t that thick. Any pride he felt as a guardian was quickly melting away. 

“Why were you crying?” Dr. Blathers asked softly.

The boy looked up at him, confusion written all over his face. “I DON’T KNOW. I JUST WAKE UP CRYING. NOT ANYMORE, THOUGH.”

There was an awkward period as the therapist wrote down a flurry of notes. Papyrus put some finishing touches on his ‘wish’ picture, while Grillby sat on the bed, questioning some of his decisions up to this point.

“Ok, Papyrus! I think we had a good talk!” Dr. Blathers announced. “Is it okay if I take these pictures and share some things we discussed with the royal guard?”

“SURE!” He paused, as if something came to mind. “OH! I HAVE SOMETHING ELSE YOU CAN TELL THEM!”

“Yes?”

Papyrus stood up and walked over to the owl, leaning on his tiptoes to whisper - which, of course, for Papyrus, meant it could be heard clear across the room. “TELL DOGAMY AND DOGARESSA I SAY ‘HI’...AND ASK THEM HOW THEY ARE DOING!”

Dr. Blathers hooted happily. “I’ll be sure to do just that!”

Grillby decided not to bring up the fact that Papyrus had already told them that very thing on the phone this morning.

With all that done, Papyrus was sent downstairs, leaving Grillby and the doctor alone. Dr. Blathers leaned over to pick up the pictures, stacking them in a pile and tucking them in a file folder with the notes he took. Grillby realized the Rubik’s cube was still in his lap, so he walked over to return it.

“Oh yes! Thanks!” The owl stuffed it in his bag. He started looking over the notes in the folder, until he noticed Grillby staring at him. He smiled patiently. “You want to know my thoughts on this, don’t you?”

Grillby was surprised at the doctor’s intuitiveness. He supposed that was his job, though. He nodded.

“Well…” Dr. Blathers sat down on the chair by the desk and shut his eyes contemplatively. “I think that you have two very precious boys and you’ve been doing a fantastic job giving them a safe and loving home. Papyrus is even calling you ‘dad’ already.”

There was that proud, reassuring feeling again. Maybe he wasn’t screwing up as much as he thought.

“Sans still called you ‘Mr. Grillby’ several times during our talk, though.”

And just as quickly as his hopes were raised, they were dashed again. 

“How do you feel about that?” The doctor asked, leaning on his hands.

Grillby stared blankly for a moment, trying to rail in the assault of emotions in his mind. He shrugged. “It is his choice to make.”

“That’s very accommodating of you,” Dr. Blathers noted. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t also be hurt because of his choices.”

Stars, was it that obvious?

“Being a first time parent to adopted children, especially if they are older, can be a confusing and complicated transition.” The doctor looked over a new set of notes from a different file. “And it looks like there was a recent death in your family. If you need-”

“I thought you were here for the boys.”

Grillby was immediately struck at how snippy his own voice sounded. He surely hadn’t meant to say anything at all - but then there it came out all the same. It was too late to take it back or even do any sort of apologizing for his tone: already the pain was seizing his head, making his body stiffen involuntarily.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but this is about the boys too. Part of making sure they recover is ensuring their environment, and the people in it, are stable too,” Dr. Blathers explained gently. “And unresolved grief can cause a whole bevy of emotional setbacks, not to mention physical symptoms.”

Grillby noticed the owl’s large eyes focusing on his hands, which were clenching as another wave of pain started up. 

“In the end, it's your choice. But I just want you to know that I can help you.”

“...thank you. I will keep that in mind,” Grillby said quietly.

There was a short silence, then the owl spoke up. “I can tell you some of my observations about Sans’ talk. I never implicitly promised confidentiality, but I do want to keep up a level of trust in case we decide to have regular sessions. However...I definitely have concerns that I believe you need to be made aware of.”

Grillby tensed, unsure if he was ready to hear what was coming next.

“I normally don’t like to assume a condition based on symptoms and evidence in a first session - but this time, the evidence and symptoms are overwhelming. And as I don’t even have access to any similar case studies from before the war…” The owl took a short breath. “I’m forced to act on my instincts. And my instincts say that Sans is deluding himself.”

Grillby had wondered the same thing on occasion, and he was sure others thought it as well, but hearing a professional say it was almost damning. Sans was smart, clever, quick with his wit - but above all, he was so confident in his own memory. Even if everything around him said it couldn’t have possibly happened that way. 

“Monster souls are made up of love, compassion, and most importantly - hope. While I know humans have been known to lose positive memories after traumatic events, from what I’ve seen, monsters tend to do the opposite. Desperate for hope, they cling to the happy memories they have. And so...since Sans recalls pleasant times and Papyrus can hardly bring up any details of his life before the earthquake, I can only hypothesize that Sans is creating hope for himself. Seeing his low HP...it might have been the only thing that kept him from falling down once they escaped to Snowdin.”

The headache rared up again. Grillby did his best to ignore it, though it did manage to dull his reaction to all this information and implication. The horror. The uselessness. The guilt. 

“As easy as it would be to let him live in this fantasy...that would be the most damaging in the long run. His true memories could return and break any false hope he built up...or his delusions could extend beyond his past and interfere with his day-to-day life. Neither of these options are good for anyone, especially for Sans.”

“...so what can we do?” Grillby asked dully.

Dr. Blathers sighed. “That journal of his. He said that he uses it to keep remembering...that he starts to forget if he doesn’t read it regularly. I think his mind is trying to heal itself but his insistence on this false past is hindering it.” He paused. “If the journal was gone, I believe it would heal naturally - the memory gaps would still be there, but no delusions. He would be more like Papyrus is now, and he’s adjusting very well.” 

The owl looked at Grillby pointedly, and the flame picked up on the unsaid thought: for this to work, the journal would have to be forcibly removed, and Grillby was going to have to be the one to do it. Sans clung to that book like it was a matter of life or death, and Grillby had to rip it out of his hands. For his own good, but still. How did you explain that to a child? How did he even know that this was the right thing to do? Dr. Blathers had explained it all but...Sans seemed okay emotionally. Was this really necessary?

“I can see you’re hesitant...but if you see any negative changes in his behavior or attitude...I’d definitely consider getting rid of it,” the owl said quietly. 

Grillby nodded, glad to be allowed the opportunity to make this decision later, even if it probably was in everyone’s best interest to do it now. 

Once the doctor had gathered up all his things, the two of them went back downstairs. The boys were waiting for them, Papyrus looking at a picture book while Sans was downing a bottle of ketchup. How he had managed to get his hands on it, Grillby had no clue; he had purposefully put the condiment in the top rack of the fridge so that Sans wouldn’t be able to reach it. Oh well. He would just have to buy some more and find another way to keep it away from him. 

Papyrus looked up from his book. “ARE YOU LEAVING, DOC?” 

“Yep! All the talks are done!” Dr. Blathers hooted. 

“OH...WILL WE SEE YOU AGAIN?” 

“If you want to. Just ask Grillby and ge can give me a call, and we can talk again. Would you like that?” 

Papyrus nodded enthusiastically. 

Grillby followed the owl to the door and opened it for him. 

“Same goes for you. If you think they need regular sessions...or even if you need to talk, I’m just a call away,” Dr. Blathers said quietly. 

“...thank you.”

The doctor took a step out, then turned back. “You’re doing good by them, Grillby. Don’t tell yourself anything different.”

At least someone believed in him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole 'puzzle flipped upside down' thing is something my aunt did to my mom about two months ago. My mom loves puzzles and my aunt snuck into the house and flipped a partially finished one upside down - except my mom isn't awesome like Papyrus so she just freaked out and then had us help her flip it back over without messing it up.


	8. Abraca-dad-bra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like a magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys! Over 200 kudos and almost 2k hits? Thank you so much!  
> I literally edited this just before posting. I don't think I'll have the next chapter done by friday - especially since I'm going out of town for a film festival my animated short is in and I have to still make a lot of stuff for a convention I'm going to sell at - but I anticipate that one will be shorter so we'll see? Either way, it'll be done when it gets done I guess.  
> Also the pacing in this chapter is awful I'm so sorry

It had taken a lot of deliberation, but Grillby finally decided to change the bar’s schedule. Throughout the weekdays it would only be open for lunch, with Friday adding evening hours. Saturdays would be only evenings, and Sunday he’d take completely off. Since the boys were starting school next week he wanted to maximize his time with them and this seemed like the best solution. He had put out a sign with the new operating hours and surprisingly so far the patrons had been nothing but supportive. Sans and Papyrus were part of the community now, and everyone knew Grillby had to be there for them. He had never been more grateful to live in a small town.

Despite his reservations about the new hours, he had to admit it was a refreshing change of pace to be sitting on the couch at four o’clock on a Monday instead of slaving over a grill and listening to monsters who would be drunk in less than an hour. Having Papyrus snuggling next to him, his blanket draped over both of them, was even better. They were watching some movie Fuku had left behind about an archer fox fighting a corrupt king. It was the fourth time they had seen this one in particular this week. There was only a handful of dvds in the house, most of which had been scavenged from the dump at Waterfall by Fuku. They had more at one point but most of the ones that featured humans had been destroyed after a very prominent fit of anger. Fuku had been more selective with what she snuck home after that.

Grillby was afraid that the boys would be bored of the selection, but Papyrus begged to watch them and Sans was always ready to sit on the couch and do nothing. Considering the only other good the television was for was the occasional news update or royal address, he supposed any visual entertainment would be exciting then, even if the resolution was low and the video skipped from time to time.

Sans was sitting on the other side of the couch, starting to nod off. Lounging for more than twenty minutes almost always ended in a nap for him. If Papyrus wasn’t so engrossed into the program he would have berated his brother by now. While it didn’t quite annoy, Grillby had to admit the constant sleeping for a boy his age, who was hardly that active anyways, was starting to worry him.

The movie was just approaching the climax - the fox was captured and his execution date was set - when the scene jittered and froze on the screen. It did that sometimes, probably due to scratches from falling underground or water damage from the dump. If you kept hitting the fast forward and then play it generally fixed itself. Generally.

“I GOT IT!” Papyrus volunteered, leaning over to grab the remote from the arm of the couch.

Maybe a bit too quickly. The sudden change in weight distribution caused the remote to lose its balance, careening to the floor. He reached out his hand to grab it, his fingers barely missing the device. Grillby waited to hear the remote clatter on the ground, his cue to scooch forward and pick it up, but it never happened.

In fact, the remote never touched the ground.

It was about a foot in the air, held up by a bone that had shot up from the floor.

Grillby sat up a bit, not entirely sure what he was looking at. Papyrus seemed just as shocked, his eyes bulging out of his sockets. That shock, however, quickly turned into excitement.

“S-SANS! SANS!! SAAAANS!!”

His brother wearily opened one of his eyes, all too used to being rudely awakened over nothing of consequence. This time was obviously different, though, and it only took a moment for him to notice. His reaction was immediate: both sockets opened wide and he jumped off the couch. Actually jumped. Grillby wasn’t sure if he had ever seen the boy jump before.

“...pap...is that…?” He asked softly.

Papyrus was bouncing up and down on the couch now. “I DID IT! I DID MAGIC!”

In all the books Grillby read on skeletons, there was a recurring theme: no one was sure about their magic type. There were some legends and theories, but without any skeletons left to really observe, there was no consensus. For awhile, Grillby even thought they might not have any magic outside of the latent abilities and simple defense bullets every monster had. This was no simple defense bullet, though. In fact, it looked very much like a real bone, materialized from nothing.

“...yeah, you did.” Sans was no longer looking at the bone, but instead was focused on his brother, investigating every inch of him. “d’ya...uh...feel ok, bro? nothing hurt or feel sore or...uh...fatigued?” The top of his eyes were creased in a worry that Grillby didn’t understand - it made him uneasy.

“I FEEL GREAT!” Papyrus exclaimed, not even noticing his brother’s concern, or blatantly ignoring it. “YOU WERE THE ONE SLEEPING, LAZYBONES, NOT ME!”

Sans chuckled nervously, relaxing a little. “you got me there.”

“I JUST THOUGHT ABOUT CATCHING THE REMOTE AND THE BONE CAME AND CAUGHT IT! IS IT THAT EASY?”

“can be,” Sans replied, approaching the bone and looking it over. He lifted it out of the ground and threw the remote on the couch. “yep, this here’s a bone-afied magical construct alright.”

“SANS, DON’T RUIN THIS,” Papyrus chided, putting his hands on his hips. He didn’t let it soil his mood for long. “WILL I BE ABLE TO DO BLUE THINGS LIKE YOU NOW?”

“hold your horses, pap. gotta get a handle on the bones first. then you can probably try blue attacks.”

The boys kept prattling on about how to practice, Sans emphasizing that Papyrus not overexert himself, while Grillby just stared. Both boys could do magic, and they never even brought it up until now? And from how they were talking about it, Sans had a lot of experience already. Had he been using it since they came to live with Grillby?

This was all so out of the blue, Grillby didn’t even know what to think. He hadn’t factored magic into raising them, chiefly because elementals and magic had a strange relationship to begin with. He was, essentially, fire magic with a living soul. Every part of his being had magic involved. He used it to keep a humanoid shape, to control his outer temperature, to flare out in self-defense if necessary. From a young age, shortly after growing from an ember, a flame was taught how to keep their magic in check to keep from devolving into an uncontrollable wildfire. Managing that magic was like breathing - something almost unconscious and yet if thrown off rhythm could prove disastrous.

He knew it was different for other monsters. Most monsters had only the basic magic, generally used in three categories: cooking, healing, and defense. A select few had additional abilities based on color types, generally also used for defensive purposes. Grillby actually was familiar with blue magic. Doggo in particular was a practitioner, and from what he heard from Fuku, many of the areas in Hotland had blue-powered defense mechanisms. From his understanding it all had to do with movement. Doggo’s blue attacks only inflicted damage if the target was moving.

There was nothing about that attack type that seemed to correspond with skeletons though, and these bones were a lot more complicated than most magical bullets he had seen. In fact, it was surprising that the bone hadn’t disintegrated by now. Generally a bullet only lasts long enough to set off the desired ‘attack’. And yet, there the bone was, still resting in Sans’ grasp.

Papyrus hopped onto the floor, holding out his hand in front of him.

Sans snorted. “you don’t have to have your hand like that, pap.”

“I DID IT...LIKE THIS...LAST TIME…” Papyrus insisted, concentrating on a spot in front of him. His arm was starting to shake, he was holding it so still and precise.

The others watched as, slowly but surely, another bone popped out of the ground. It was the oddest thing to see. One moment, nothing there. The next, a bone was materializing through the floor, seemingly from nothing. At least it didn’t damage the carpet.

“NYEH HEH HEH! I DID IT AGAIN!” He exclaimed.

Sans gave him a lazy thumbs up, but Papyrus was more interested in Grillby, staring at him intently. It was then Grillby realized that he had been nothing but an observer as he was reminded, once again, that there was still so much about these two that he didn’t know yet. Papyrus was searching for a reaction, an opinion, approval, and of course Grillby had been too caught up in his own concerns to notice.

“Good job, Papyrus,” he praised warmly.

Papyrus beamed. “THANKS, DAD!”

 

It was a mistake.

 

A slip of the tongue.

 

The effect was immediate. Everyone froze as time seemed to crawl to a standstill. It was eerily quiet, and then the bone fell from Sans’ hand, smacking the ground with a thud.

“...why...why did you call him that…?” Sans asked. His voice sounded hollow as his sockets started to darken.

Papyrus rubbed his fingers together, glancing desperately at his blanket, which he left on the couch. He refused to even look at his brother.

Grillby considered stepping up to the boy’s defense, explain that it was an accident, but he knew. He knew getting involved now would most likely make this worse. He had no choice but to watch, his soul clenching in pain.

“...pap…” the grin grew more taut as the seconds ticked by. “why would you call him that?”

Papyrus took a shuddering breath and stiffly turned his head to the side.

“look at me.”

Papyrus started trembling.

“...c’mon, pap...look at me…”

He gasped sharply, eyes wavering.

“...you know...you know dad’s still out there...the Guard just-”

“NO.”

Sans flinched, like his brother had just slapped him across the face. “...w-what…?”

Grillby held his breath, anxiety gripping every part of him in a deathlock, ready to squeeze the life out of him.

“NO. WE...WE NEVER HAD A DAD, SANS.” His gloved hands were in tight fists, but even that couldn’t stop the tremor going through his body.

Sans’ eyelights went completely dark, his shoulders sagging forward. “...oh…”

It was quiet again until he started laughing, a low chuckle without any humor. It echoed through the room, almost as if it was taunting everyone. Grillby gripped the edge of the couch, heart breaking, wondering if now he should finally get involved.

Then Sans ran.

Grabbing his notebook, he dashed to the door and threw it open. Grillby barely had the chance to react before he was already outside. Wasting no more time, the elemental shot to his feet, racing to the door, ready to chase the boy down. He was stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he reached the doorway.

Sans was nowhere to be seen.

Grillby whipped his head back and forth, looking desperately for any glimpse of a blue striped sweater amidst a sea of white. Nothing. Fear crawled up his back. Where could Sans have gone?

“I-I...I’M SORRY…”

Grillby turned. Papyrus was still rooted to the spot, fat tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I DIDN’T MEAN...TO SAY THAT...DIDN’T M-MEAN TO MAKE HIM SAD….” He hiccuped a quick and painful gasp of breath. “HE’S MAD AT ME…”

Grillby rushed over and knelt beside him. “Papyrus, he isn’t-”

He didn’t have time to finish before Papyrus grabbed his shirt, eyes wide and shaking furiously. “...H-HE LEFT ME…”

Grillby sighed, his soul feeling like it was shattering. He wrapped his arms around the boy, rubbing his back gently. “...Sans just needs space to think. He’s confused...and we need to help him.” He drew back. “Can you do a really important job for me?”

Papyrus looked up at him and nodded, but it lacked the enthusiasm he usually had. It was like he lost his spark of joy, and that was another stab into Grillby’s heart.

“I need you to stay here and wait for your brother. The Dogi are going to come and watch you.”

“A-AND...YOU’RE GOING TO FIND HIM?” Papyrus asked shakily.

Grillby nodded.

“...WILL YOU BE GONE LONG?”

“I’ll come back as soon as I can,” Grillby promised.

Papyrus took hold of his hand and squeezed it, but nodded all the same. He didn’t want him to go - and honestly, it was tearing Grillby apart to leave him in this state, but it would be hard enough to search for one emotionally drained child. Having another one to keep track of would only slow him down. And with the temperatures outside, he needed to find Sans quickly.

He hurried over to the phone, Papyrus still clinging to his hand, and dialed Dogaressa. It only took two rings before she answered.

“(Hello?)”

“Dogaressa...I…” He paused, trying to wrap his mind around everything that had happened so he could try and relay it back.

“(...What’s wrong, Grillby?)”

Apparently his voice betrayed his anxiety. He did his best to explain the situation, asking if they could stay with Papyrus and keep the bar closed for the night. Dogaressa was, predictably, worried sick, and even offered to send the Guard to help look. Grillby appreciated the gesture but had to decline; sending out dogs to search for Sans might make him think he’s in trouble and upset him further. No, for now, Grillby could do it himself. If Sans wasn’t found within the hour, though, he would ask for help, if only for safety’s sake.

He hung up the phone, then turned to Papyrus. “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“...BUT YOU’RE LEAVING NOW…” Papyrus muttered.

“I need to make sure your brother is safe. Will you be okay?” He asked, torn between leaving now and waiting until the Dogi arrived.

Papyrus nodded, then looked over at the coat hanger. “HE NEEDS HIS JACKET.”

Grillby went over and put on his own warm weather gear, then grabbed the blue hoodie, draping it over his arm. He turned to say goodbye, only to have Papyrus grab him around the midsection. The boy just stood there for a moment, leaning his head against Grillby’s stomach.

“...I LOVE YOU DAD,” he finally managed. “SANS LOVES YOU TOO.”

He spoke the last bit with such conviction, Grillby felt bad that he didn’t believe it too.

“I love both of you,” Grillby said softly. “That’s why I need to make sure he is safe.”

Papyrus stepped back, seemingly more composed, giving Grillby permission to leave. The elemental almost hesitated, but he knew he couldn’t waste anymore time. He opened the door and set out.

There was a fresh trail of slipper prints leading out of the door. Grillby supposed he should be glad that at least his feet were covered, but he couldn’t help but feel dread - Sans’ HP was so low, getting sick again could be fatal, not to mention slipping and injuring himself in countless other ways. He shook his head. No, he was not going to focus on what-ifs. Worrying would not help anyone now. He had a lead, and he was going to use it.

Carefully, he followed the tracks, noticing that Sans’ stride grew longer the further it went until suddenly…

It stopped.

There were no more footprints to follow.

Grillby tensed. He wasn’t even a hundred feet from the house, how did the tracks just stop? It was snowing, sure, but not nearly enough to fill up prints this quickly. His instinct was to panic, but he forced himself to stay calm. The lead may be gone, inexplicably even, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t figured out where Sans was. He would just have to think about where the boy liked to go - and suddenly he realized exactly where Sans had to be.

Grillby made it to the Librarby in record time, stopping to catch his breath as soon as he made it inside.

The librarbian looked him over and shook her head, sighing. “He’s in nonfiction.”

Grillby never thought three words could cause such relief. Until he saw Sans and confirmed he was okay, though, he wasn’t ready to relax fully. He nodded in gratitude and started walking over to the correct section.

“Didn’t even hear the kid come in,” the librarbian mused to no one in particular as he walked away. “Must of snuck by when I wasn’t looking…”

Since the nonfiction area was behind some shelves, it was impossible to see until you turned into the aisle. He made it back there quickly. The first thing Grillby noticed was a mass of books strewn all over the floor, some even hanging off of their respective shelves. And there, in the midst of it all, was Sans, lying prone. Grillby’s soul almost leapt out of his chest until he saw the rhythmic breathing, albeit maybe a bit heavier than usual. The boy was just sleeping. His face was the picture of exhaustion, sweat still dripping off of his head. Grillby supposed after the high emotions and running to the Librarby, it wasn’t too unusual for him to fall asleep suddenly. He had taken naps under far less arduous conditions.

Grillby felt the pressing stress of Sans’ safety melt away, only to make room for new worrying questions: what was Sans trying to do, and how was Grillby supposed to handle un...whatever this was called. It wasn’t really a fight. A mess. That sounded about right. A giant, tangled mess that was unlikely to resolve itself without hurt feelings, a ruined homelife, or, worst of all, dredging up traumatic memories. It was like walking a tightrope and Grillby didn’t honestly know if he was strong enough to cross it.

Several of the books were open, and Grillby knelt down to investigate. Maps of the Underground, all featuring one location in particular: Hotland. Grillby’s stomach dropped. Sans was trying to run away, back to where he was most likely abused. Back to where the abuse would most likely continue if he returned there. The tightrope was growing more and more treacherous by the second. Grillby couldn’t properly prevent Sans from trying to run off without explaining the implications of abuse and in no possible situation would that go over well. It was clear now how Sans would react if the existence of his ‘dad’ was questioned already, and adding the Guard’s theory would agitate that further.

Basically, Grillby was stuck. There was nothing he could do that wouldn’t make this worse. Stars, he really was a failure, wasn’t he?

He scanned the books scattered about, trying to come up with any favorable option, when something familiar caught his eye. Sans’ notebook. It was lying among the Librarby books about a foot from where Sans was now resting. Grillby just stared at it absently for a minute, and then everything became clear. Maybe he wouldn’t have to cross the tightrope after all. Dr. Blathers had said that without the notebook to read and remind himself, Sans’ mind would heal itself. He would forget these delusions. He would be like Papyrus.

He might even see Grillby as a father figure too.

And, if the delusions were forgotten, would it not make sense that this mess would be forgotten also? There would be no consequences, no more misunderstandings. Sans would be able to start a new life without this false past glorifying his abuser. He could be a normal kid. Isn’t that what everyone wanted for him? Wouldn’t that be for the best?

Grillby reached out to pick up the book, but his hand hesitated. Dr. Blathers had implied the forgetting would be gradual, so Sans would notice the book’s absence. That would be a completely new mess waiting to happen. And yet, if it was going to do what the doctor suggested, wouldn't it be worth the temporary grief it would cause?

Without any further thought, Grillby grabbed the notebook, stood up, and started walking toward the exit. The librarbian gave him a funny look as he passed her desk.

“I’ll be right back,” He assured.

He needed to get something done first.

 

* * *

Sans’ eyes blinked open blearily, slowly taking in his surroundings. It didn’t take long for his tired gaze to fall on Grillby, who was sitting next to him. They stared at each other in silence while Sans regained his bearings. He slowly raised himself up into a sitting position, putting a hand to his head.

“...didn’t mean to bolt like that...should’ve probably…” he looked over at all the books on the floor, “paged you about where I was going.”

“It’s okay,” Grillby answered calmly. He offered Sans the hoodie, which he threw on over his head and shimmied into.

“...he’s probably upset, isn’t he?” Sans said quietly, pulling on the jacket’s drawstrings. “i just...i thought…” he shook his head, “but it’s ok now. i figured out how to get pap to remember. just gotta…” he reached out absently next to him, only to freeze when all he found was the floor. He cautiously felt his fingers around, the bones clacking against the linoleum. Nothing.

Grillby tensed as he watched the boy grow more and more frantic, scanning the area with a wild energy, his expression becoming tight. “What’s wrong?” he asked, doing everything in his power not to let his discomfort show.

“i... can’t find it...where is it!?” Sans cried, getting shakily to his feet. His eyelights blinked out. “...my notebook…”

“Stay calm,” Grillby said softly. “Let’s look for it.”

He was shocked when Sans nodded without hesitation, allowing him to help lead a search throughout the Librarby. There was no questions, no doubt of Grillby’s intentions.

The boy trusted him.

And why shouldn’t he? Grillby had been nothing by honest, caring, accommodating, and even enabling when it came to Sans’ delusions at least. Why would Sans have any reason not to trust him?

And now Grillby was using that trust to his advantage.

Stars, he was disgusted with himself.

He did his best to push the nausea away as he helped the boy turn the Librarby upside down searching for the notebook. Of course, nothing was found, and Sans was reduced to silent sobs and a vacant stare by the end of it. Grillby suggested they search the house, but Sans was too inconsolable to even answer. Every tear ripped into Grillby’s soul, but he had to work through it. This was for Sans’ own good, he had to remember that. It was all going to be alright when it was over. Finally, he picked Sans up, who offered no resistance, and carried him back home.

Somewhere along the way the child cried himself into exhaustion, slumping into Grillby’s shoulder. The elemental rubbed his back, repeating silent apologies over and over. They returned to the house, where Grillby had to quiet Papyrus and his guests to avoid waking Sans. Once they saw he was okay, he brought the boy upstairs and tucked him into his bed. Sans slept through the night without any disruptions.

And then he forgot.


	9. No Business Like Snow Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a snow poff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm posting early because A) Going out of town tomorrow for the weekend for a games convention/film festival my film is going to be a part of, and B) This chapter is quite a bit shorter than normal so it seemed unfair to make you wait any longer. I forced myself to up and write the second half today, even though it was kinda tough haha I'm awful at fluff. So I apologize for the short length. Next chapter is gonna be fun to write, and we'll see if we get to the Friday normal update day or not.  
> Again, thanks for reading and all the nice kudos/comments! I really do appreciate it!

The wind picked up, sending the light snowfall into little spirals. Grillby adjusted his scarf further over his face.

Fuku snorted. “You’re such a baby, Uncle Grillby. A little snow never hurt a flame!”

Not right away, perhaps, but he wasn’t about to risk it, especially since he had the boys. Before the war he had heard horror stories of elementals becoming so complacent with the cold that they didn’t even realize their core temperature was gradually dropping to dangerous levels. He looked his niece over: all she was wearing was a sweater, skirt, and stockings. No protective gear whatsoever. Always the rebel, he supposed, which meant more anxiety for him. She always seemed a bad decision away from being snuffed out. 

“Uncle Grillby!” She stomped her foot, snapping him from his train of thought. “I swear, if you are just going to give me that look all day, I’m going to head home right now.”

“...and ruin Sans’ and Papyrus’ afternoon?” He asked wryly. 

She made a noise like she was going to answer, then her eyes narrowed, realizing her predicament.

Fuku had arrived at their house unannounced that morning to have a ‘family day’. The boys’ school started tomorrow, and hers next wednesday, so it was sort of a celebration of the end of summer - or, as summer as it got in Snowdin, at least.

_ “I just want to spend some time with...well, I guess they are technically my cousins? Feels more like they should be my brothers…” _

Grillby had told her she already had a cousin, Heats Flamesman. She had just stared at him deadpanned, like she had never heard the name before.

He didn’t question her sudden visit anymore after that; it was already clear to him why she was here. She was worried about all of them. And could he really blame her? He had called her three times in the span of a week, triple their usual amount, and hadn’t exactly been the picture of calm each time. If she had done the same, he probably would have braved the ferry ride to Hotland too. In the end, he was more than welcome to see his niece, so if this was the excuse that brought her here, so be it. 

“FUKU! FUKU WATCH THIS!!” Papyrus cried, waving his arms excitedly in the air.

“I’m watching, buddy!” She assured, giving him her full attention. 

Both boys had been ecstatic to see Fuku, but Papyrus was by far the most enthusiastic. As soon as she had come in and explained why she dropped by, he insisted that they all go outside so he could show her what he had been learning: after some warmup, he was ready to go. He held his hand out with perfect poise, concentrating. A few moments later a bone shot up from the ground, followed by a row of two more, displacing the snow around them into rough piles. He was clearly very pleased with himself, but he kept it back, looking to see what Fuku thought.

“Wow!” Fuku clapped. “Good job, Pap! You’ve been working really hard on your magic, haven’t you?”

She didn’t know the half of it. Ever since he awakened his magic he had been pouring himself into it, practicing every moment he could get. Eventually the summonings grew bigger and more elaborate: one bone at a time became two, became three, and he could even have them rise up in different patterns. It was still a primitive understanding of his abilities, but considering it had only been a few days at most he was improving at a very rapid pace. Perhaps too fast. When trying to show off a new attack maneuver he had accidentally shattered a rack of plates at the bar. He was only allowed to practice bone magic outside from then on.

“gotta  _ hand _ it to him, he’s been putting a lotta work into it,” Sans drawled. He was lying in the snow next to his brother, the poffs around him threatening to swallow him up, he had sunken in so deep. 

“NYEH! SAAANS!” Papyrus huffed.

“just sayin’,” he shrugged. “you don’t have to keep doing that pose to get your magic to work.”

A bone popped up suddenly, causing Papyrus to stumble back, almost falling over. He quickly regained his balance, shooting Sans a dirty look. Sans just winked.  

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! IT’S…” He paused, as if noticing his brother for the first time. “WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING DOWN THERE?” 

“makin’ a snow angel,” he replied simply.

“THE ANGEL HAS WINGS!” Papyrus reminded, gesturing to Sans’ arms, which hadn’t budged an inch since they landed in the snow.

“i’m working on it. just reaaaally slowly,” Sans assured. “you’ll see. i’m doing a sans-sational job.”

“...SANS.”

“snow one can do it like me!”

“SANS!” Papyrus fumed, crossing his arms. “...ANYWAYS, IT LOOKS COOLER IF I PUT MY HAND OUT!”

“looks like a lot more effort to me,” he mumbled. 

“I agree with Pap,” Fuku interjected. “When using magic you have to have some pizzazz! Like this!” 

She knelt down on one knee, spinning her arms in opposite circular motions that intersected each other. Papyrus watched in awe, leaning forward on his toes. Even Sans lifted his head a bit to watch. After a few rotations she smacked her hands together above her head, fire shooting out of her fingertips a few feet into the air. Her eyes creased in concentration, she deftly synchronized the flames to start taking a new shape as indicated by her precise finger gestures. By the end of the process, there was a giant flaming outline of a bone hovering above Fuku’s head. 

“WOWIE!” Papyrus exclaimed, starry eyed. “THAT IS SO COOL, FUKU!”

“yeah, you were really on fire,” Sans added, only for his brother to push a snow poff over his head. 

Fuku stood up and wiped off her skirt, causing the bone fire to dissipate, sparks showering down to the earth. “Thanks, guys! Pap, I bet you could do something cool like that too if you tried!”

Papyrus seemed to consider this, then his eyes widened. “SANS!” He started brushing the snow off of his brother’s face. “SANS, I NEED YOU TO HELP ME WITH SOMETHING!!”

Sans’ eyes were soon visible, and he didn’t seem the least phased by the fact that he had been smothered by snow. “ok.”

The two got to work scheming on...well, whatever it was that Papyrus was planning, speaking in hushed voices, turned away from Fuku and Grillby. Fuku gave a sigh as she walked back over to her uncle, her expression hardening into something more serious. 

“He seems to be doing okay,” she noted, gazed fixed on the older brother.

Grillby nodded. Sans was doing more than okay. He was doing extremely well. And, Grillby supposed, that was part of the reason why he felt so conflicted.

The day after the...mess, Grillby had expected some more of the emotional turmoil of the evening before. This time, however, he was prepared. He had planned a way to search the house without finding the notebook, activities to try and distract the boy, etc. He had even made sure to instruct Papyrus not to bring up the notebook anymore so that Sans wouldn’t get ‘sad’ again. And yet, in the end, he hadn’t needed any of that. 

Sans woke up, and for the most part everything was normal. There were some odd signs - he was incredibly disoriented, sometimes staring blankly if no one engaged him, and his responses were somewhat slow. And yet, besides that, nothing seemed wrong. No emotional outbursts. No more messes. No mention of the notebook. It was an average - happy even - day, spent playing games, watching movies, and preparing supplies for school. 

Days had passed since, and by now there was nothing out of the ordinary. Sans was his usual clever, lazy, pun-loving self, just without any hint of delusions. Not even memory of any delusions, as far as Grillby could tell. The true test had been when Papyrus slipped up again, calling Grillby ‘dad’ at the dinner table. The two of them had froze, fully expecting a relapse to the mess from before. And yet, Sans didn’t even acknowledge it, continuing to lick ketchup from his fingers like nothing had even happened.

Grillby supposed he should be relieved. It had worked. Sans’ mind had healed itself. But it had happened so quickly, almost instantaneously, that it almost felt too good to be true. Could mental scars really heal over that fast? To see such a staunchly held conviction literally disappear overnight was nothing short of disconcerting. 

At the same time, it seemed counterproductive to worry about that right now. His family was happy and healthy, and having second thoughts about the method in which they got to this point wasn’t going to make that any better. It was his job to make sure they had the best possible future; Sans wasn’t going to have that if he had kept clinging to things that hadn’t happened. This was all for the best. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

The notebook in question was now hidden in an old box in Grillby’s closet - the boys very rarely entered his room, and the closet had a shelf too high for them to even see if anything was push up against the corner, behind other books and mementos. It took a day or two, but his curiosity finally got the better of him. Once the boys were sound asleep he took the notebook out to inspect its contents, wondering what it was that Sans really believed about his own past. For him to hold onto it so dearly, it had to be something special, right? But there was a problem.

Grillby couldn’t read it. 

The first few words were simple:  _ My name is Sans. My brother is Papyrus and my father is the royal scientist, Dr. W. D. Gaster.  _

But from there on out it was written in some code Grillby had never seen before. Symbols like arrows, flags, and, most prominently, hands were littered throughout the pages. There wasn’t even proper punctuation. Just these tiny pictures. He had stared at the contents for an hour, trying to make sense of any of it, but came up with nothing. It was probably a cipher of Sans’ own design, which meant anything in the book would never be discovered. It was frustrating, but at least Grillby could live without the guilt of prying into something Sans obviously wanted kept secret.

And yet he couldn’t help but wonder…

Papyrus made a loud throat clearing sound, getting both Grillby and Fuku’s attention. He was standing proudly next to Sans, who was still partially covered in snow and had obviously made no attempt to get up out of it. “WE HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU!”

There were already some bones starting to emerge from the ground. Papyrus threw his hand forward, summoning three more, and carefully positioning them. Sans was clearly controlling some of the projectiles, half of them moving slower and with less precision. Once finished, there was a something that looked like a stick figure standing by them, with a bone floating over it. 

Papyrus’ grin widened and he looked like it was taking a lot to focus on the magic keeping everything in place and not start jumping around. “WE DID IT! SEE? IT’S YOU, FUKU!”

“Ah! I do see!” Fuku said, her eyes softening. “That’s super awesome guys! You did a great job!”

“SANS HELPED A LITTLE,” Papyrus admitted. “BUT ONE DAY I WILL BE ABLE TO DO THIS ALL BY MYSELF!”

“I know you will!” Fuku insisted. “You should learn more about using magic at school, too. Are you excited for that?”

“YES! I’M GOING TO MEET A LOT OF NEW FRIENDS AND LEARN EVERYTHING!!” He exclaimed. “IT’S GOING TO BE GREAT!” 

Sans just shrugged, looking like he was on his way to taking another nap, even though he was still half-buried in the snow. It would be his third one today.

The three of them started talking animatedly about school, Fuku giving hints about how to be a good student, while Grillby started drifting off to his own thoughts again. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly nervous about both of them going to school. They were adjusting to Snowdin life marvelously, but school was a whole new ballgame. He wouldn’t be there to help them or comfort them right away if needed. Papyrus hadn’t been set off by anything recently, but would the teachers know how to deal with him if something happened there? Would they even know what was going on? He had tried to explain it to them during orientation, but he had so many little tics and tells that it was hard to give them a full picture.

And Sans...well, he just hoped Sans wouldn’t get himself into too much trouble with his mouth or the copious amount of pranks he was no doubt already planning. The whoopee cushion had been banned from entry at the school, but he would easily find something else to drive a teacher up the walls. Grillby anticipated Sans getting bored easily - it was clear he was a lot smarter than other kids his age, what with the level of reading he still kept bringing home from the Librarby. That would definitely leave opportunity to come up with something rotten.

He was about to let his anxiety continue to build up around him when something wet suddenly slapped him in the face. He stumbled backwards, wincing. It didn’t take him long to orient himself and find out who was responsible.

Fuku was already rolling up another snowball - with her bare hands no less! - and looked rather pleased with herself. “C’mon, Uncle Grillby! No time to waste! We have some fun to be had!”

The slush had started an irritating burning sensation. He adjusted his glasses, which had started to fall off, and increased his body heat to evaporate off the remaining wetness. His first instinct was to chide his niece about playing this intensely in snow; her hands would likely get water-burns if she kept this up without mittens. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Papyrus was struggling to make his own perfectly round snowball, and even Sans was getting involved by creating what seemed to be a snow barricade - or maybe it was a pillow, it was hard to tell. 

Fuku was absolutely right. It was time to have some fun.

His worries could wait another day.


	10. The Write Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of school! FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the delay! I had a great time showing my film off at the festival but while I was there I got even more good news - I'm going to be selling my artwork at this year's Indy Popcon (visit me at table 1048 if you are going)! ...which meant I had to hurry when I got back home and get product ready a month earlier than I thought I needed it. Everything is prepared for it now but this next month or so is still gonna be busy so I'll still be uploading the chapters as I finish. The chapters also seem to be getting shorter I'm sorry I'm not that great at fluffing it up.  
> Either way, thanks for the continued support!

So far everything was going well. The bar had been packed for lunch, full of happy monsters who just wanted some good food and someone to talk to. Since closing time was in half an hour most patrons were gone by now, save for the Dogi. They had been there since open and took their time through their meal. Normally, with the amount of traffic, Grillby would have hurried them along to get more seating. However, they had made sure to keep him involved in conversations the whole time, and he was more than welcome for a distraction.

In fact, if they hadn’t been there he would have been spending any free time he had hovering over the phone. The teachers had assured him they would call if anything happened. He wanted to be ready just in case.

Honestly sending the brothers off that morning has gone surprisingly well too. Both boys were excited to go to school - most likely because they still didn’t have a full grasp on what school was - and had insisted they were going to walk there themselves. He had covered the route with them several times and knew they’d catch up with other children commuting as well, so that didn’t worry him.

What did was Papyrus’ slight hesitation to leave without Grillby, the way he held his hug a bit longer than usual, like he didn’t want to let go yet. He was going to walk home alone too, even though Grillby had offered to pick him up. At least on the way over he’d have Sans with him; his brother’s classes lasted a good two hours longer. And yet he was determined. He didn’t want to be a ‘babybones’. He was going to do it all by himself.

Grillby would be so proud if he wasn’t so nervous.

“(Hey!)” Dogaressa snapped her fingers, bringing him to attention. “(Don’t go wandering off now.)”

“They’ll be fine,” Dogamy insisted. 

“Sorry…” Grillby said softly. After all their effort the least he could do was give into their distractions.

He got back to wiping off the counter in front of him. All the rest of his closing duties were finished - if the Dogi left he would just close up a little early, but he knew they weren’t about to leave him alone to wallow in his thoughts.

“Say, Grillby, has anything of yours been stolen lately?” Dogamy asked. 

He shook his head. Or, at least, if anything had, he hadn’t noticed their absence yet. 

“(There’s been an increase of missing property reports recently,)” Dogaressa explained. 

“A glass paperweight. Some marbles. Dog treats,” her husband listed, counting them off on his paw. 

“(And the like. Right now we think it's a teen testing their boundaries, but if you see anything, let us know.)”

A nod. If anything was misplaced, Papyrus would be sure to bring it up, and he could keep an eye out for suspicious behavior. 

They further discussed other Guard matters: training new recruits, building magical armor for Greater Dog, and personalizing both of their sentry stations. Grillby stayed involved in the discussion as much as possible, asking questions and doing his best to immerse himself in the information. Despite all his anxiety, it somehow managed to work - for a period. Finally it came time for the restaurant to close.

“Well, we should probably head back to our station. Must stay vigilant!” Dogamy announced, scooting his stool back and jumping off. 

“(And you need to get home.)” Dogaressa paused, features softening. “(You’re doing a good job, Grillby. They both are adjusting well, becoming more and more social. Every parent has first day of school jitters - it will pass.)” 

“And Sans and Papyrus are both sweet, smart pups. I’m sure they’ll love school,” Dogamy chimed in. “Until they realize how awful homework is.” 

The couple laughed, and Grillby almost joined in. He appreciated their encouragement, their trust in him. The Dogi were some of the most honest monsters he knew, and with their investment in the boys’ well-being they had no reason to lie to him. Why did he have such a hard time believing in himself like they did then?

They handed him gold for the meal, long since eaten and cleaned up after, and he walked them out of the restaurant, thanking them for their company. Once they were gone he swept the floors and did a quick once over of the serving floor, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. Feeling everything was sufficiently clean, he gathered up all the payments and left, locking the building behind him. 

The walk home seemed painfully longer than usual. He did everything he could to quicken his pace, but time still slowed to a crawl. It was even worse when he reached the house. After putting up the daily earnings and marking them in his sales book, he sat down in the living room, thinking he could get some down time while he waited. Instead of relaxing, though, it was suffocating, almost as if the seconds ticking by reverberated through the walls. Papyrus’ class lasted another ten minutes, and it could take another twenty for him to arrive. Grillby couldn’t stand just sitting around for another second. He had to do something or he’d lose it.

An idea struck him. When Fuku was still in grade school it was always a happy surprise when she came home to find fresh baked cookies waiting for her. Papyrus had recently developed a taste for cookies himself, specifically those of the chocolate chip oatmeal variety. And milk. There had to be milk with them. He took the whole ‘milk for strong bones’ saying very seriously. If Grillby started now the treats should be ready by the time Papyrus got there. And, most importantly, Grillby would have something to occupy his time.

He headed into the kitchen, quickly preheating the oven and gathering all the necessary ingredients. Time finally seemed to be moving properly again. It didn’t take long at all to mix everything together, making sure there was the perfect ratio of oats to chocolate chips. He portioned the dough out into little balls onto a greased sheet, loading them all into the oven. While they baked he kept himself occupied, cleaning off the counter and making a grocery list based on their current stock of food.

He had just put the cookies out to cool when he heard the front door open. Grillby turned, expecting to find a child excited to tell him all about the fun he had on his first day of school.

What met him was almost the exact opposite.

Papyrus was standing in the doorway, blanket wrapped over the top of his head. He was holding himself stiffly, eyes moist with unshed tears.

Grillby felt his stomach drop.

The boy mechanically hung up his bookbag and jacket on the pegs by the door, dragging his feet over to the couch. He almost seemed to shrink into himself, like he was trying to make himself disappear. Grillby acted fast, grabbing some cookies onto a plate along with a glass of milk, setting the snack onto the coffee table. He sat down next to him, eyeing the child with a now justified concerned.

“Are you okay, Papyrus?” He asked gently.

The boy didn’t respond. He flipped the blanket onto his lap, then leaned his head against the elemental, giving a soft sigh. Grillby put his arm around him, tracing circles into his shoulder. This made him lean in more, relaxing a bit. Grillby wasn’t going to press him any further, waiting until he felt ready to speak. 

Finally the silence was broken by a voice much softer than usual.

“...DAD, AM I A LIAR?” 

It was like a punch to the gut. The idea that Papyrus had even entertained this thought was enough to hurt Grillby; what was worse was his tone implied he was heartbreakingly close to believing it was true.

“No, Papyrus. Of course not,” Grillby insisted, squeezing him in assurance. “Who told you that?”

His flames were starting to grow a little unruly and he took a breath to calm them down. It was hard not to get a little riled up over this. Some kid had said something demeaning that made  _ his _ child question his own character, and that was something Grillby would not stand for. Once he knew who it was he was going to have to talk with their parents. 

Papyrus brightened up a bit at Grillby’s affirmation, but his expression quickly darkened. He looked at the floor, his fingers absently picking at the ends of his blanket. “...MRS. SNOWDRAKE SAID I WAS LYING TO HER AND THAT I SHOULDN’T DO THAT, ESPECIALLY TO ADULTS.”

Oh. It was the teacher. That was even worse. 

“What happened?” Grillby asked. Maybe this was all some sort of misunderstanding. That would be easier to handle, anyways.

“SHE ASKED US IF WE COULD READ WHAT WAS ON THE BOARD, BUT SHE JUST KEPT SCRIBBLING INSTEAD OF WRITING ANYTHING! I TRIED TO HELP HER AND THAT’S WHEN SHE SAID I WAS LYING…” he explained, eyes wavering a little.

This suddenly was getting confusing. While Grillby was inclined to believe Papyrus, it was hard to imagine that a teacher would waste anyone’s time by not writing something properly and then arguing with a student about it. Especially when the class was made up of young, impressionable kids who were still getting used to basic school subjects.

Unless…

Grillby stood up, careful not to topple Papyrus over, and went into the kitchen. He quickly returned with paper and a pencil, which he set in front of the boy.

“Do you think you remember any of the scribbles?” He asked, sitting back on the couch.

Papyrus mulled over this for a moment, then nodded. Holding the utensil gingerly, he drew out lines on the first sheet of paper. They were shaky and a tad unsure, but Grillby could still clearly see what it was a depiction of: the letter ‘A’. Realization hit him all at once.

Papyrus couldn’t read. 

Grillby supposed he really shouldn’t have been as surprised by this as he was. Papyrus was only six after all, and it wasn’t too uncommon for monsters to not have learned by then. And yet, he had still assumed the boy could. He was reading Fluffy Bunny outloud all by himself now, and he was a whiz at word searches. Though...now that Grillby thought about it, he had read Papyrus his favorite book enough that the child could have memorized it. The word search was always finished but Junior Jumble and the crossword were ignored or used for something other than their intended purpose. All the books Papyrus brought from the librarby had very little writing in them at all - he had always seemed attracted to the pictures more than the titles. His illiteracy had been staring Grillby right in the face and he just hadn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together until now.

And yet, that conclusion on its own didn’t explain all of Papyrus’ story. 

“Can you show me how to write...the right way?” Grillby asked cautiously. 

There was absolutely no hesitation this time. Grillby felt his pulse quicken as he recognized the symbols that were being written. A flag. A hand doing the peace sign. That flag again. A star that he believed had religious connotations on the surface. A sun. A cross. A raindrop.

This was the same kind of writing that was in Sans’ notebook. 

Thoughts and theories were filling up in Grillby’s head faster than he could process them. He had been under the impression that Sans was using a made-up cipher, but if Papyrus could write in it at such a young age...would that make it another language? Who taught it to them. And if that monster was an abuser, why even teach them to read at all?

A doubt was slowly forming at the pit of his stomach.

“DOES YOUR HEAD HURT AGAIN?” 

The boy was looking up at him with utmost concern, almost like this was far more important than any emotional distress he was fretting about earlier. Stars, he was such a good kid. 

“I’m just thinking,” Grillby assured. It was partially a lie; his head was starting to hurt, but it was more because of the overthinking than whatever caused the pain usually. “What does that say?” He pointed to the page 

Papyrus’ face crumpled. “YOU CAN’T READ IT EITHER…”

“No, I can’t.” Grillby moved his finger over to the ‘A’. “But I can read that.”

“THE SCRIBBLE?” Papyrus asked, confusion written all over his expression.

He nodded. “Maybe we can teach each other.”

“YOU MEAN...I CAN BE THE TEACHER TOO?” The boy’s eyes widened.

“Of course, but let’s keep these classes a secret so we can surprise everyone,” Grillby insisted. While he was sure Mrs. Snowdrake would be thrilled to have Papyrus suddenly literate, this idea was more for Sans’ sake. He wasn’t sure if his other child would have a relapse if he suddenly saw writing that was closely connected to the notebook he once held onto so tightly. 

Papyrus nodded enthusiastically, and Grillby couldn’t help being a little excited too. The contents of the notebook had been nagging him for so long, he might finally have the chance to discover what it held in its pages. If this new language was easy enough to decipher, that is. And if not, at least he’d be able to teach his son how to read and have some bonding time while doing it.

“THIS IS MY NAME! ‘PAPYRUS’!” The boy motioned to what he had written down prior. 

Grillby examined the symbols a bit closer, realizing suddenly that he had seen that flag before: in the corners of all of Papyrus’ pictures. He had just assumed it was a motif the boy was interested in, like how he tended to draw scenes from their homelife repeatedly, but now it was clear what it really was. A signature. Grillby almost laughed at how dense he had been this whole time to not have figured it out by himself. 

Carefully, he wrote out the letters for ‘Papyrus’ over top of each symbol, all in capitals. He felt some tension ease out as he made a discovery - every symbol correlated with a letter. There were two ‘P’s in the name, and each ‘P’ resided over a flag. This meant that the new language was a simple substitution for the common tongue, not some writing based on a completely different set of vocabulary and grammar. Grillby supposed that made the most sense, as Papyrus spoke common and not...whatever a bunch of small cartoons would sound like. With this in mind, it would be much simpler to teach Papyrus, and hopefully vice versa. The ability to read the notebook was clearly in sight.

“Okay, Papyrus, this is a code. We can solve it together,” he explained. “Do you know how to write the alphabet?”

“YEAH!” Papyrus quickly got to work on a new page, writing a slurry of hands, smiley faces, and other bizarre symbols down. He absently grabbed a cookie with his free hand as he went, ready to indulge once his task was complete.

It was going to take some time, but Grillby knew they would both get to where they needed to be. Papyrus would be able to read common and Grillby would read this new symbol language. It both excited him and filled him with a vague sense of dread. What if what was in the notebook was better off unread?

Still, looking at Papyrus’ happy face as he was preparing to take his part as the ‘teacher’...

For now everything was fine.


	11. Font-ain of Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another trip to the Librarby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I actually almost had this one ready for last thursday but I didn't want to rush it. I'm still not super happy with the results but ehhhh. Its mostly a chapter for setting up things, not any plot, and I'm not super good with those.   
> Indy Popcon was great! I learned a lot, met a lot of cool people, including Phil Lamarr, Peanutbuttergamer, ProJared, Jirard the Completionist, and Satchbag! I also didn't realize that Loverofpiggies and Alainapraina was going to be there .___. I was too shy to talk to them but they walked by my booth and said hi and I awkwardly said hi back.   
> I'm going to be prepping for now potentially two cons in August (one for sure, other I'm in talks with), so updates again might be slow. But I always like writing at work and I'm gonna be doing a lot of that haha! So hopefully the next update will be within two weeks or so - next chapter is gonna be fun, probably will be split up into two.  
> Also my birthday is on Friday! I'm gonna be an old fart.  
> AND I ALMOST FORGOT but again thanks for the views and kudos! I'm really close to 3k views and 300 kudos and that still...doesn't compute to me haha

 

“SANS! YOU AREN’T DOING IT RIGHT!” Papyrus huffed, stomping his foot into the snow.

His brother was sitting in a nearby poff, the drift coming up to his waist. “took my turn, didn’t i?”

“BUT IT WAS SO BORING! THE BONE BARELY CAME OUT OF THE GROUND!” Papyrus insisted. “AND YOU’RE NOT EVEN STANDING UP! HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO DODGE THAT WAY?”

He sent a wave of bones in Sans’ direction, only for the attack to veer off way before it would actually hit its ‘target’.

“looks like i’m the only one not missing anything right now,” Sans drawled with a wink.

Grillby watched the two of them as they continued this back and forth - maybe they’d do well as a comedy duo in the future. So far this was more entertaining than he thought it would be, anyways. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been nervous when they asked him if they could start combat training. The thought of the brothers fighting was bad enough, but the possibility of injuring each other on accident also set him on edge, especially with Sans and his low HP. At the same time, the boys had presented a compelling argument: school starts teaching basic combat and defense during gym second semester, and the system generally assumes some previous knowledge beforehand. Sans was excused from the activities for medical reasons (which he didn’t mind at all, given it would provide more nap time), but Papyrus would have to participate, and he was still getting the hang of his magic in general. Considering there was no one else underground who had an understanding of skeleton magic, Sans needed to be the one to get his brother up to speed. Grillby thought that they were a bit young to learn fighting, but he knew the grim facts - when humans fell, it was children that were the highest casualties. He was not going to leave his sons defenseless.

Despite his reservations, Grillby had relented, with the stipulation that he supervise every practice session. Thirty minutes into their first ‘fight’ and he wasn’t so sure what he had been scared about in the first place. Papyrus sent continued formidable attack patterns against his brother, but they always ended up swerving around him, keeping a distance of at least five feet. The amount of control he had over his constructs was impressive, especially for still being a relatively new magic user. What was abundantly clear most of all, though, was that he was never going to put his brother in a situation where he would accidentally hurt him. It was a dedication and loving caution that filled Grillby with an immense pride.

Sans, on the other hand, seemed to be putting in the usual minimum effort. His bone attacks moved at a lazy crawl, barely approaching the target before dissipating into nothing. Whether it was for Papyrus’ safety or his own lack of drive, Grillby wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both. Regardless, it was odd that the boy was already starting to sweat despite the little to no activity.

In the end, the whole ordeal was less of a fight and more just throwing magic harmlessly at each other. Papyrus was utilizing some creativity and strategy in his moves, though, and that gave Grillby hope. He didn’t want him to be unprepared with the battle simulations started up.

Triumphant laughter drew his attention back to the fight at hand. Papyrus had surrounded his brother with several blue bones, obviously in an attempt to trap him in. The boy had only learned to turn his attacks blue earlier that week and already was using them with high proficiency. He claimed that eventually he would be able to ‘TURN YOU BLUE’ too, but Grillby had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Still, just the fact that he had basically mastered this new type of attack in such a short amount of time was incredible, even if his current formation had a very clear design flaw: all of the bones were spaced out wide enough that, if Sans wanted too, he would easily just walk on through with no damage. Papyrus was lucky that his brother showed no indication of getting up anytime soon.

“NYEH HEH HEH! YOU FELL FOR MY TRAP!” Papyrus announced, puffing out his chest in pride. “NOW WHAT WILL YOU DO?”

“well, shoot.” Sans sighed overdramatically, shaking his head. “looks like you leave me no choice; it's time to use my special move.”

Papyrus’ bravado quickly deflated into confusion. “SPECIAL MOVE?”

“Yeah, y’know, an attack so powerful and awesome that it ends the battle right then and there,” he explained.

“AND...AND YOU CAN DO THAT?”

“yup. gonna do it right…” Sans squinted, like he was concentrating really hard. “now.”

The air seemed to fill with anticipation as everyone waited to see what was going to happen next. Even Grillby got caught up in it, curious as to what Sans would come up with. He knew other monsters who had big attacks intended to finish a fight, but they never really discuss it with the gravitas Sans was giving - to them it was just another move in their arsenal.

After a minute of waiting Papyrus had lost the little patience he had. “NOTHING IS HAPPENING!”

“exactly. that’s my attack. nothing,” Sans replied, sounding a bit too pleased with himself.

“BUT...BUT THAT’S NOT EVEN AN ATTACK!” Papyrus argued.

“i know. but it means i won’t take my turn...which means you can’t take yours.” He shrugged, grinning cheekily. “fight over.”

Grillby wasn’t sure what he had been expecting - this was Sans after all. While there was certainly credit to be given for cleverness, that didn’t change the fact that this method was, in effect, cheating. The whole ‘turn-based’ system was really more of a formality than a universal law, albeit a formality that most monsters and humans abide by. However, if Sans pulled something like that against someone who was determined to hurt him...it would not deter them for long.

“THAT...THAT’S NOT FAIR!” Papyrus objected. “I DON’T EVEN HAVE A SPECIAL ATTACK!”

There were many other reasons why it was unfair, but Grillby supposed the boy had a valid complaint.

“eh, don’t worry about it, pap. you’ll come up with one and you can use it next time,” Sans insisted.

At first Papyrus didn’t look convinced, but then he put his hands on his hips. “YOU’RE RIGHT. AND IT’S GOING TO BE A LOT COOLER THAN YOUR LAZYBONES ONE!”

“of course it will be, ‘cause it’ll be yours,” Sans said, grin softening. “the coolest.”

Grillby looked up at the atmosphere, which was starting to turn a light shade of purple. He didn’t necessarily want to stop them prematurely, but they did have other plans for the evening and it seemed like Sans was trying to get the practice done with anyways. “If we want to get to the Librarby before close we probably should go now.”

“OH, OK! LET’S GO!” Papyrus exclaimed.

The blue bones dissipated almost immediately, and even Sans got up rather quickly, a rare sight. The three of them started on their way, Papyrus sidling up close to Grillby, grabbing his hand and swinging it as they went. His brother followed on the other side, occasionally giving short, curious glances at the handholding. They all needed to go to the Librarby today for various reasons: Sans needed to find resources for a paper, Papyrus had a show and tell book report, and Grillby had his own research to conduct.

Having homework definitely took some getting used to, but now school life and home life appeared to be working together well. On top of that, the boys both seemed to love school and were praised by their teachers. Despite some early mischief-making, Sans was reported to be exceptionally bright, deftly handling subjects far above his current grade. To keep him from being bored and resorting to pranks or naps during class, the teachers had started assigning him advanced readings and projects. There were rumors that if he kept this pace he might be able to graduate a few years early. One teacher even wanted him transferring to high school classes as soon as next semester.

The comments for Papyrus were different but still abundantly positive. He was a model student, attentive and engaged during all aspects of class. He always had questions to ask, even if they were sometimes so out of the box that the teachers couldn’t think of an answer. Creative, expressive, and above all: kind and considerate. While he might not always pick up on every concept as fast as everyone else he never stopped trying. And in certain situations where spatial recognition was important, he was sometimes quicker than the other students. Grillby noticed that that was the case with learning how to read common. It took less than a week for Papyrus to memorize the new writing system, and now he was reading books all by himself.

Grillby felt his flames warm up a bit. He was so proud of both of his sons.

They reached the Librarby with time to spare, splitting up to retrieve the books each one of them needed. Sans headed to the science corner, Papyrus over to the children’s section. That just left Grillby. He hesitated, not entirely sure where to start looking himself. Once he was sure Sans was out of sight, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. It was a list of the symbols Papyrus had taught him, the ones that both and he and his brother could read and understand. Grillby still needed a chart with him to consult while he was reading - all of those hand symbols started to mix together after a while - but his familiarity with it had grown a lot over the past few weeks. And with it, his compulsion to know what was in the notebook.

So he read it.

It took some time at first. Actively translating a book wasn’t easy, especially since Grillby didn’t feel comfortable enough actually writing down the translated text; it would just create two copies of the book for Sans to accidentally find. He would only be able to go through a few pages at a time before he had to take a break, and even then he only had a few hours each day where he could safely do it without either child finding out. Finally he hit a rhythm, and just the other day he finished through the whole thing for the first time.

He still wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about it.

Honestly though, he didn’t know what he had expected to find in there. Validation in his decisions? Definitely not. Instead he found precisely what one would find in a journal a young boy fought so hard to keep: memories. Detailed anecdotes about a happy, albeit very unconventional, life in Hotland, growing up as the son of the royal scientist. The stories were jumbled up, obviously written down in haste as soon as they came to mind.

Sometimes they were just small details.

_dad has two scars on his face. he usually smells like coffee or ammonia. sometimes when he gets focused on something he starts singing silly songs about what he’s doing. he works too hard and falls asleep at his desk a lot._

Other times they were long recollections.

_one of dad’s coworkers brought over his daughter a few weeks ago to play while they talked about science stuff. her name is al. she was pretty cool. we played board games and watched cartoons all day. she says one day she wants to work in the labs too. she seemed pretty smart. she only forgot one part of the table of elements, and she’s six months younger than me! maybe we’ll work together when dad let’s me actually work instead of just watch._

There were definitely some details that were unusual. Sans and Papyrus were being homeschooled by this ‘Dr. Gaster’, and weren’t allowed outside of their home very often. Sans never seemed upset by this fact. That just meant that he was allowed to roam about the labs while the scientist worked, learning things from his assistants. At one point it was suggested Gaster kept the children close to him at all times because he was afraid, something about Sans’ ‘condition’, but nothing really tied it together other than a few vague references to Sans sometimes needing to be under constant supervision and a medicine he had to time for a time that he didn’t particularly enjoy. Honestly all this new information was more confusing than anything else, requiring context that Grillby didn’t have access to and that Sans hadn’t bothered to add into the text.

There was no mention of a mother or any other family member. No friends outside of coworkers that Sans frustratingly still couldn’t completely recall, furious attempts at names scribbled out over and over again. He recounted Asgore visiting a few times, even adding the Queen’s name and the royal children once, and of course this enigmous child only known as ‘Al’, but other than that no other monsters. Nobody who could corroborate the stories inside. And Asgore himself had looked Grillby in the eye and told him he had never worked with or heard of a ‘W. D. Gaster’.

Though he also had said that there was something oddly familiar about the skeleton children.

Nothing in the notebook immediately brought up any red flags outside of the somewhat strange isolation. Aside from that, and the unique perspective of living with someone as important and science-orientated as the royal scientist himself, Sans wrote about what seemed to be a normal childhood. Playing. Learning. Making mistakes. Enjoying the small things in life as well as the extraordinary gifts that came with it. And all of this was made possible because of an almost perfect father. Dr. Gaster was described as smart, funny, and most importantly, loving. Constantly affirming his two boys. Always putting their interests first. Doting on them. Doing everything he could to make sure they were safe and had a future worth living in.

Grillby couldn’t help but feel threatened by everything this imaginary person was.

It was like he suddenly had two shadows to walk in instead of just one.

And just like that, the doubts were returning. If Sans had only hallucinated all of this, why were there so many details? Why weren’t there bigger hints at something malicious happening underneath all of the descriptions? He knew it was easier to just accept it all as Dr. Blathers had explained it to him, but that didn’t stop that nagging feeling. That itch in his mind that told him he had made a mistake. He had asked the Dogi to check if there was an ‘Al’ in any records to try and get a story from her, if she even existed at all. Until then, he just had to wait. Wait and hope he was doing what was best for Sans.

“Oh, is someone pranking you on Undernet?”

Grillby startled out of his thoughts, nearly jumping at the voice. The Librarbian was standing next to him, eyes quite wide herself.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she muttered, drawing back a bit. “Couldn’t help but notice your Wing Dings there.”

“...my...what?” Grillby sputtered, not entirely sure what she was talking about.

“Oh you know. The kids seem really into it nowadays. Sending messages online in a font no one can read. Real hilarious,” she shook her head. “Anyways, yeah, looks like Wing Dings to me. Or Web Dings? I get them mixed up.”

It took almost a whole minute for Grillby to even process what she was saying. To her credit, she just stood their patiently the whole time while he tried to put it all together.

“...it's a computer font?” he asked finally.

“Yeah, one of those weird ones. Here.” She went over to a shelf, counting the spines a bit before retrieving a book. “This is about the history of fonts. You might learn something if you’re so curious.”

He pocketed his sheet of paper took the book somewhat confusedly and she waddled off to do whatever Librarby duties were required of her. For a moment he just stood there, taking all of this in. It wasn’t a language. It was a font? That would explain why each symbol was just a substitute for common. But why would the kids just know how to write in a different…

Oh. Wait. He had forgotten. In all his skeleton research, way back when he thought the boys were only staying for a few days, he had read something about fonts and their relation to skeletons. Skeletons communicated differently than other monsters, though it usually only shows up as an almost imperceptible accent. They referred to it as a ‘font’ and it even dictated their given names. Experts had theorized that skeletons had created the font systems still used in computers to this day. It was an interesting fact for sure, but nothing that Grillby had considered to be relevant to raising his new wards.

If these symbols were actually a font, that would mean another skeleton had taught it to them. A skeleton who, most likely, was named Wing Dings.

It hit him all at once like a ton of bricks.

W. D. Gaster.

Wing Dings Gaster.

It was too much all at once. Too much. He put a hand to his head, giving a small hiss of pain. He couldn’t expect himself to piece all this new information in yet, especially when it was mostly conjecture. But he did know one thing: he was going to have to read through this new book. Learning anything about what the Wing Dings font was could help him discover something about this person, who now was most likely not a figment of a boy’s broken imagination. A monster who could very likely have been abusing his sons for years.

There was also the other possibility, but he didn’t have the emotional energy to spend on considering it at the moment.

Quick footsteps in his direction mercifully broke him from his train of thought. Sans was standing next to him, a large, thick book held securely in his grasp. In between his boney fingers, an illustration of a planet and some stars were visible.

“i found it, grillby! the book mr. nook recommended!” He explained excitedly. “it has some pictures of the andromeda galaxy in it from the hubble telescope and a working model on how a black hole works, according to the latest theory.”

Grillby had never seen him quite so excited before. It was almost as if the boy’s pupils had turned into the stars he was talking so animatedly about. “You really like space, don’t you?”

Sans nodded adamantly. “its just so big and we still don’t know so much about it..i hope i get to see it in person one day…” His fingertips brushed along the cover reverently, a small sigh escaping through his teeth.

An idea started forming in Grillby’s mind. Maybe the three of them should go on a trip sometime in the future.

Papyrus soon met up with them, a stack of books in his arms. Grillby was proud to see a few simple chapter books mixed with the rest. It might take Papyrus a while to get the hang of the harder material, but he was willing to try, and that was the most important thing.

They all headed over to the check out desk, ready to get the cards in the back of the books stamped. It was how the Librarby kept track of authorized borrowings and the exact date of check out. The stamp had little moving parts to customize the month and date. It was a normal part of the Librarby routine, and so it was odd to see the Librarbian take each book and write in the dates instead.

She shook her head at their confused expressions. “Came here yesterday and the stamp was gone.”

Another victim of the ‘Snowdin Snatcher’ - or at least, that’s the name Sans had given them.

Once they were all checked out they walked out of the building, snow lightly falling from above. The boys were all holding their hauls proudly, ready to dive into them as soon as they got home. Grillby gripped tightly onto his own find, trepidation filling his soul at what he might discover.

No. This had been a good day. He wasn’t going to let this sour it.

“...let’s get some nice cream on the way home,” he offered.

Both brother’s eyes widened as smiles filled their faces. They started discussing enthusiastically about what flavor they would choose, how thankful they were. Grillby’s heart softened just watching them. Good kids. He couldn’t reiterate enough what good kids they were. All he wanted to do was to see them happy.

He just hoped he was doing it right.


	12. You're a goner, kid!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family goes on a trip. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii it's been sometime. I apologize. This chapter was a beast and originally I was going to split it in two but there wasn't a good place in my opinion to split it sooo...instead you have this. Also I'm now going to be boothing at Wizard World Columbus and I got a paid comic gig from someone I met at Indy Popcon so I've been busy on the drawing front, leaving my only writing time at work where I write on post it notes while walk through the store.  
> Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long but I can't make any promises.  
> Also I totally hecked up Waterfall's layout. I tried to match it with the actual map but it became too much of a hassle. Sorry.  
> Thanks again for all the support! Its still hard to believe its over 300 kudos and 3k!

“Tra La La~ To or from, which way do you run?”

Papyrus looked at the Riverperson with a knitted brow. “WE AREN’T RUNNING. WE’RE ON A BOAT.”

Running sounded like a great idea to Grillby right now. He had had days to prepare for this. Stars, even yesterday he had felt fine. And yet here he was now, stockstill in the middle of the wooden vessel, flinching every time so much as a drop of water splashed over the edge. It was pathetic, really. What kind of example was he setting for his sons? This was the safest mode of transportation in the Underground, successfully avoiding crossing Waterfall’s eponymous cascades, which is far more deadly that this. Still, wasn’t it natural instinct for any flame to fear travelling along water?

Well, except for Fuku. Fuku probably would love this.

The only comfort he had in all of this was his boys. Papyrus was having a blast so far, enthralled by the boat ride and maybe taking the Riverperson’s cryptic attempt at communication too seriously. Even Sans was enjoying the fact that he was moving so quickly with no effort. So much so, in fact, that the rocking motion was lulling him to sleep. This, of course, peeved Papyrus, who would gently nudge his brother when he started nodding off. Grillby didn’t mind, though. He was still surprised that the boy had even woke up at all this morning. Five o’clock on a Sunday was not easy, especially when it was unexpected. And yet he got up and got ready without complaint, only falling back asleep when they got on the boat.

They both got ready rather quickly, actually, dressing for moderate weather and gathering anything they wanted to bring on an outing. For Papyrus, that meant his blanket, which he stuffed in his backpack for safekeeping. He was getting better at not having the comfort item everywhere with him, sometimes leaving it at home during quick errand runs, but for bigger events it was always somewhere close by. School especially, he always had it with him then, even though he had gotten used to school by the second week. Grillby wasn’t going to stop him or anything: it actually helped sometimes when Papyrus would be inadvertently set off. He just knew one day it would be something Papyrus would have to stop relying on solely. 

Neither of them questioned what was happening when he woke them up, content that the trip was a ‘surprise’ and they would find out soon. Papyrus looked like he had a lot he wanted to ask, but he was easily distracted as soon as they met the Riverperson. The mysterious monster’s quips took him so off guard that a lot of the ride had been filled with silence as he tried to work out what was being said. Grillby knew better at this point. While the Riverperson was revered as a wise monster, their sayings weren’t always relevant or coherent. Trying to interpret the adages almost wasn’t worth it, especially when some just told you well-known knowledge like the route to Temmie village.

The Waterfall stop was in sight, and Grillby relaxed as the boat slowed to a crawl.

“Sometimes keeping secrets you didn’t know you had can make you fall apart,” the Riverperson mused.

“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?” Papyrus asked, patience limit obviously reached.

“Too much determination made the baby go blind,” They provided, as though that was an answer itself and not a complete non sequitur.

The boat drifted into the dock, hitting the wood gently. As soon as the craft stopped moving Grillby wobbily got to his feet, eager to get out as quickly as possible. His shoes hit the planks and he could feel the anxiety dripping off of him. It would be better once he was on solid ground, but even then he wasn’t completely safe. Waterfall was treacherous with hidden puddles, leakage from the ceiling, and of course the large bodies of water only a mere slip away. It took a lot of self control not to grab his boys and get them as far away as possible. 

That was silly. They weren’t flames, they weren’t going to be immediately extinguished if they hit the water.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t drown, though.

Nope. Not even going to think about that. He was here for them. He could keep them safe. They were going to have fun. It was all going to be alright. 

“THANK YOU FOR THE RIDE!” Papyrus called as he nearly dragged his brother onto the dock. “IT WAS FUN TALKING TO YOU!”

That was definitely one way to put it.

The Riverperson nodded in acknowledgement, leaning against their oar. “Tick tock, can’t stop the clock. Or the dog.”

Grillby beckoned the two of them forward and they stepped off onto the grass. They must have been very preoccupied by the ride because they almost immediately stopped in their tracks, gawking. He couldn’t really blame them. Waterfall tended to do that to monsters seeing it for the first time. The glowing foliage, the reflective pools, the soft blue light illuminating their very beings, the surrounding darkness that only made the light even that more enchanting - it was all very beautiful, even Grillby would admit that. He would enjoy it too if it wasn’t so closely associated with imminent death. 

“WHERE ARE WE?” Papyrus asked.

“Waterfall,” Grillby answered.

“OH.” His mouth hung open a bit. “WHY ARE THERE LIGHTBULBS IN THE MUSHROOMS?”

“not lightbulbs, bro. bioluminescence,” Sans said softly, suddenly wide awake. He was taking in the view with something akin to reverence. “and look! the rocks in the water are phosphorous!”

Papyrus hummed, unimpressed by all the big words. “I’M GOING TO GO TOUCH IT!”

Without any further warning he ran forward to the closest mushroom, backpack jostling up and down. His little boots stopped right in front of his target and he paused for a moment, inspecting the glowing fungus. A hesitant hand reached out and settled on top of it. Almost immediately, the light flashed out.  

“AH! I BROKE IT!” Papyrus cried, hand snapping back.

Grillby walked over and gently laid his own palm on the mushroom. The glow returned, lighting up their silhouettes. 

Papyrus’ eyes widened and his face broke into a smile. “MAGIC!”

He was quick to experiment. Turning the light on and off with one hand, two, a single finger, then going on to how fast he could consecutively do it. Eventually the area turned into something of a mini light show. Papyrus’ hands were almost blurs as he hit the fungus repeatedly at top speed.

Sans strolled over and patted his brother’s shoulder. “might wanna give it a rest, pap. you’re gonna cause a mass seizure.”

“OH...SORRY…” He mumbled, drawing back. He looked up at Grillby. “THANKS SO MUCH FOR TAKING US HERE, DAD! IT WAS SO COOL!”

“This wasn’t why we came here today,” Grillby informed, barely able to hold back a chuckle.

“IT’S NOT…?” He tilted his head, mulling this over. Then he gasped. “YOU MEAN WE’RE GOING TO DO MORE!?”

Grillby nodded, motioning off into the distance. All three of them started walking, the boys still taking time to soak in their surroundings. Grillby stayed to the middle, wary of the streams on either side. Thankfully their first stop wasn’t too far ahead. He could actually make out the storefront already even in the low light, but it was the boisterous voice calling out that confirmed he was where he wanted to be. 

“Well, well, well! You actually showed up!” 

An old turtle monster was standing behind a counter built into the wall, covered with all sorts of wares. One of his eyes was squinting, the other bulging at them with some sort of smug satisfaction, complimented by his crooked smile. He rested his head on one of his hands as they approached. 

“A’course, I could see someone like you coming from a mile away, Mr. Candle-man,” He teased. “Welcome to Waterfall, Grillby.”

“Gerson,” Grillby greeted, nodding in his direction.

Gerson shook his head with a chuckle. “Stars above, I really did think you were going to turn yellow like you did all those times before.”

“... I called ahead of time,” Grillby lightly protested.

“Sure! And you promised that niece of yours you would accompany her to the Wishing Room years ago, and she still seems bitter about that. Wa ha ha!” The turtle guffawed. 

Grillby had actually forgotten about that. He had told Fuku a lot of things when she was younger to tame her tempers. It made sense she would come and complain to Gerson of all people about her uncle’s shortcomings - it was a hobby they both seemed to enjoy. 

Gerson leaned over the counter and looked down. “Ah! And these must be the skeleton kiddos everyone is talking about!”

It was weird to think that people were ‘talking’ about his sons, but with the company Gerson kept it was just an inevitability. He still had close ties with the Guard and had tea with the King once a week. With how involved both parties were with this case it was bound to come up in conversation. Calling it a case at this point seemed wrong, though. The Guard had exhausted most possibilities and avenues, and while they were still keeping a nose out for leads, for the most part active investigation had come to a halt.

Papyrus was partway behind Grillby, eyeing the old monster with equal parts curiosity and hesitation. The loud voice was probably a bit off putting, ironic in Papyrus’ case. Grillby often wondered if the boy’s hearing was too sharp, resulting in a louder tone to match what he perceived and irritation when anyone else’s volume exceeded what was normal. 

With his brother still deciding how he wanted to interact, Sans stepped up to bat first. “i’m sans, and this is pap.”

“PAPYRUS,” he corrected.

“oh yeah, right. papyrus.” Sans winked, successful in coaxing his brother to speak. 

“AND THIS IS OUR DAD, GRILLBY!” Papyrus said, inching out a bit to put an arm around Grillby’s waist. 

“Oh I know all about your old man! Been around him since he was yea big!” Gerson indicated a few inches with his clawed fingers. “We were neighbors back on the surface!”

“YOU USED TO BE THAT SMALL, DAD?” Papyrus asked, mouth agape. 

Grillby nodded. Embers were about the size of crabapples when they were born, sometimes even smaller. From what he was told, Gerson has even been there to assist with his birth. He wondered if that made the turtle his godfather...he tried his best not to shudder. 

“He’s still pretty small if you ask me!” Gerson huffed. “Fire elementals are known to be towering walls of fire, and here he is at barely six feet! Fuku’s gonna pass you up at her rate! And with all the genes in your…”

He trailed off, features suddenly softening as he looked up at Grillby. The elemental hadn’t even noticed it but the flames on his head were starting to get erratic. Probably because of the headache. He took a breath and worked to reel himself back in. 

“grillby doesn’t wear jeans. wouldn’t suit him,” Sans informed wryly. 

The awkward silence was quickly filled with Gerson’s over the top belly laughs. He wiped at his good eye, letting out a large sigh. “That was a good one, sonny. You should take up comedy some day.”

“eh.” Sans shrugged. “maybe. got some other plans first.” 

“Really? At your age?” Gerson questioned. 

“uh...yeah. thinking about...i dunno, doing something with science?” Sans muttered, rubbing the back of his head and looking away somewhat embarrassedly. 

“Oh, I see! A science man!” Gerson turned to Grillby and winked overdramatically, which with his eye just made it look like he was taking a very long time to blink. “Well I’m sure with a dream like that, there’s nowhere to go but up!”

Grillby swore, if Gerson was going to give this surprise away he was going to strangle the old coot. 

“You know what, boys? I think I have a job for you two,” Gerson announced.

“WOWIE, REALLY? WHAT KIND OF JOB?” Papyrus asked. 

“Your old man ordered something from me the other day and I think he wants to pick it up now. It's in the back in a big box on a cart.” He flicked up two fingers and a slab of the stone next to the counter rumbled and slid to the side, revealing an entry way. “Think you can go there and get it out for me?” 

“WE CAN DO IT! COME ON SANS!” Papyrus pulled his brother into the new hallway, who shrugged as they both disappeared behind the rocks. 

It was quiet for a moment, both monsters just standing there, not quite looking at each other. Finally, Gerson broke the silence. “They seem like good kids.”

Grillby nodded adamantly. He couldn’t agree more with that statement.

“Kinda remind me of you at that age!” The turtle smiled. “Stars, how long ago was that...few hundred years now, huh? And you’re still not even middle aged yet, are ya? Wa ha ha! I’ll never understand the elemental aging process.”

Like he was one to talk. How old was he now, at least two thousand? And he’d been ‘old’ since as long as Grillby could remember. Elementals, flames in particular, just took a long time to age, especially during the developmental stages. It takes an incredible amount of time to grow a self-sustaining fire the size of a man, and if stoked rapidly the flame had a high risk of burning out too quickly. There were plenty of other species that lived as long as if not longer than elementals, but he supposed their development cycles were a lot shorter.

Gerson laughed a bit shaking his head. His face quickly turned serious. “Y’know, I haven’t seen you since the funeral.”

Well, there goes that headache again.

“I know I said it before, but I’m so sorry. About all of it.”

“...it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Grillby muttered coldly, suddenly fixated by the way the lights reflected off of his shoes.

“And neither did you.”

“What?” Grillby’s head shot up, not sure if he heard that right with all the pounding going about his mind. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You can’t keep blaming yourself for things out of your control.” The turtle was staring at him, almost as if these reassuring words were actually a threat. 

It was sad, wasn’t it? That loving words of affirmation were useless and instead they needed to treat him as if they had a knife to his throat? And even then it wouldn’t change anything. They would still be wrong.

Papyrus and Sans emerged wheeling a cart with a tall cardboard box on it - or, at least, Papyrus was wheeling it. Sans was just walking next to him, hands in his pockets. Grillby went over to the package, Gerson’s stare boring into him. Obviously the turtle wanted to continue the conversation, but he wasn’t going to do it now. Not in front of the kids. Grillby was luckily off the hook.

He opened the top of the box and peered in, confirming its contents.

“WHAT IS IT?” Papyrus asked, standing on his tiptoes like that would help him see into a box almost twice his height.

“You’ll find out soon,” Grillby assured.

Turning back to the counter, he started counting out the gold for the package, as well as ordering three thermoses of sea tea and a few crabapples for later. He was about to pay when something nudged his side. Looking down, he saw Sans, who was motioning with his head over to his brother.

Grillby quickly adjusted his gaze. The boy was standing in front of the counter, transfixed by one of the objects for sale: a small, plastic action figure of a man in bright colored clothes and a cape billowing behind him. It had some slight scratches and dents in the paint, but other than that was still in good condition. 

Gerson also noticed his interest. “Ah! See something you like, there?”

“...WHAT’S HIS NAME?” Papyrus asked, eyes not leaving the figure.

“Ah, yes, that’s the Great Mighty Man!” Gerson explained without missing a beat. Pretty impressive, considering he had to be making it up on the spot. “He’s super strong and can jump clear over buildings. He protects the innocent from all evil!”

Papyrus was speechless, staring at the molded plastic in front of him with awe.

It didn’t take long for Grillby to decide to buy the toy. The rest of the surprise today was mostly for Sans, and honestly he had never seen Papyrus so taken by an object before.

Just when he was going to ask how much it would be, Gerson picked up the figure and handed it over to Papyrus. “Here, sonny. You can have him.”

“WOWIE! REALLY, MISTER?” Papyrus gawked, holding his treasure in his hand like it was made of glass.

“Yep! Just make sure to take good care of him, ok?” Gerson winked.

“OKAY!” 

Grillby had no doubt Papyrus would take the best of care of his new possession. Knowing him, he might even try to feed it.

Still, Grillby was taken aback by Gerson just giving away merchandise. He was notorious for his high prices, especially for product found in the dump, which was ‘dangerous’ to retrieve. Grillby couldn’t help but stare at the turtle in disbelief.

“What?” Gerson snapped. “I’m old! I’m allowed to be soft if I wanna!” He paused. “‘sides, I’ve kinda been taking care of a whippersnapper myself. Little fish follows me everywhere, surprised she’s not here now! ...maybe she actually went to school for once. Anyways, reminds me a bit of Papyrus. Couldn’t help it.”   

That would do it. 

“THANKS AGAIN, MISTER!” Papyrus called as Grillby paid for everything.

“yeah. thanks,” Sans added.

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Gerson waved his hand dismissively. “You two have fun today, okay?”

“WE WILL!” Papyrus promised. 

The turtle turned to Grillby. “And you, take care of yourself, alright? You have people who need you now.”

Sure, just add more pressure, why don’t you?

“...I’ll work on it,” Grillby muttered half-heartedly. 

They left Gerson waving goodbye, Grillby pushing the cart ahead of them. Papyrus was practically skipping, smiling down at his action figure. Everything else today could be a bust but at least he was able to make Papyrus this happy. His brother was following close behind, eyeing the package on the cart with increasing suspicion. 

Finally they reached the room where the surprise was. Grillby parked the cart abruptly against the wall, nearly causing Papyrus to trip from the sudden stop. 

“WHAT ARE WE DOING NOW?” He asked, using the wall to steady himself. 

“The surprise,” Grillby replied simply, working carefully to move the package onto the ground. 

“pretty surprising that you haven’t let the cat out of the box yet,” Sans remarked, still giving the mystery object a curious glance. 

“OH, SO IT'S A CAT?” 

“...uh...highly doubt it, pap. it would’ve made some…” 

The boy trailed off, his eyes wide. Grillby had removed the cardboard, revealing the whole reason why they had come here in the first place. 

The telescope’s chrome body gleamed in the low light, reflecting the soft blue glows all around it. It was in far better condition than most technical instruments found in the dump, no doubt protected by the box it had fallen down in. Grillby hadn’t checked the functionality but when he had called Gerson asking if there were any in stock, the turtle had assured him that it was in working condition.

It was hard to judge Sans’ reaction right away. He was staring in what only could be disbelief, barely breathing as he took in what was standing before him. He hadn’t even moved since it was revealed, like a simple twitch might make it vanish. 

Papyrus, on the other hand, could be read like an open book, his brow deeply furrowed. “WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?”

“...it’s...it’s a telescope, pap,” Sans said softly, awestruck. He breathed out through his teeth, making a faint whistling noise. “it’s a real telescope!”

Any inhibition the boy felt seemed to disappear immediately. He practically hopped over to the surprise, hands reaching out nervously to touch it. He started inspecting every inch of it, mumbling to himself about the parts and their uses, grin widening as he went along. His pupils were so large you almost couldn’t see the blacks of his eye sockets.

“it...this is incredible! the zoom length and the stabilization...i can’t believe it!” Almost as quickly as the excitement began, though, it started to seep away, his shoulders sagging. “...too bad we can’t use it down here…”

Grillby understood that disappointment, anticipated it even. He breathed in, hoping the next part of the surprise would work as well as the first. 

“Maybe you should try it out anyways,” he offered. 

Sans gave him a funny look but took the bait regardless. Leaning over, he gently set his eye against the viewfinder, closing the other. It took less than a second for an audible gasp to fill the room.

“n-no way…”

Grillby tilted his head up, admiring the glistening gems on the high ceiling. Through the telescope he was sure it was even more of an impressive sight. He tried to compare it to his own memory of the night sky, hazy after years living underground. It wasn’t quite the same, but he could tell Sans hardly cared about it.

“I know they aren’t real stars, but it will give you practice when we reach the surface,” Grillby explained. “And you can make up your own constellations, so…”

“i love it.” His voice trembled slightly, like he was holding in an outburst of emotions. “i love it so much.”

Operation Waterfall Surprise: success.

“pap, you gotta come look at this!” Sans insisted, waving him over excitedly.

Papyrus, who so far had been staring at his brother like he had grown a second head, slowly walked over. Grillby watched as Sans taught him how to use the device, pointing out the clusters of ‘stars’ he had already managed to find. Despite his earlier confusion, Papyrus caught onto the novelty of the telescope quickly, especially when Sans explained that the ‘stars’ could make pictures if you connected them together a certain way. 

Everything was going well, better even than Grillby had planned. He felt like the luckiest monster in the Underground.

That’s when the crying started.

At first Grillby assumed it was Sans, who had looked a little teary-eyed last he saw. But the way the sound echoed off the walls, it was clear the source was down one of the halls. The sobs were softer and somewhat higher pitched. A child. Grillby couldn’t ignore it. Wouldn’t he want someone to act if they heard his sons crying?

“Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back,” he instructed, knowing they wouldn’t wander off.

“OKAY!” Papyrus replied, obviously distracted by the telescope. They probably wouldn’t have even noticed if he had left.

He stood and watched them for a moment, as if reassuring himself they’d be fine. Once comfortable enough he started off, following where he figured the cries were coming from. Making his way down the dimly illuminated path, he made sure to keep an eye out for puddles or anything else that could be dangerous. The crying grew louder the further he went, which only filled him with an odd sense of uneasiness. He didn’t let the trepidation hold him back, though, compelled to discover what was going on. 

Finally he reached a dead end, a small dock to the river and reeds in front of him. On that dock was a small grey monster, armless body shaking as they continued to cry. Grillby stopped where the ground met the dock, wary of getting onto it just yet.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, hoping they would be able to hear him.

They froze mid-sob. Slowly, almost mechanically, their head turned to face him.

Grillby suddenly felt cold. 

The child’s eyes were hollow and pupil-less, appearing to look through him rather than at him. They were expressionless, only a few stray tears indicating that they had been crying at all. Grillby resisted the increasing urge to run - this was still a child, even if something did not feel right about them at all.

“Have you ever thought about a world where everything is exactly the same...except you don’t exist?” Their voice was distorted, layered, almost like more than one person was speaking in monotone at the same time. 

It was getting harder and harder not to run.

“No...no I haven’t. Are you okay?” He asked again, hoping some normalcy would change the atmosphere around this.

“Everything functions perfectly without you…” The child mused, laughing lightly. “...the thought terrifies me.”

“That does sound scary…” Grillby admitted. What kind of kid thought about things like that? More importantly, what kind of kid looked or sounded like this?

They seemed to consider him for a second, then opened their mouth again. “Do you know who built the core?”

The question was so simple - stars, he had even asked it himself before - and yet for some reason it was suddenly overwhelming. No. No he didn’t know the name of the monster that built the core. The one who had made all their lives sustainable down here. Someone who should be a household name, a hero. He didn’t know, and no one he asked ever knew either.

Well, except for one.

“...was it Dr. W. D. Gaster?” Grillby asked quietly, well aware that it was ridiculous to ask a child this - but it was obvious by now that this was no mere child.

They tilted their head. “It’s rude to talk about someone who’s listening.”

Grillby swore he felt someone’s presence behind him. He didn’t dare turn around.

None of this was making any sense, and honestly Grillby was surprised he was taking any of this babbling seriously. And yet, somehow, pieces seemed to be fitting together. No one knew who built the core. Even when told about Sans’ convictions, the King had only said he had never worked with someone named W. D. Gaster - wouldn’t it have been easier to simply name the monster who was really the royal scientist instead as proof? How could they forget someone that important?

But what if it was like the child said. What if Dr. Gaster didn’t ‘exist’ anymore, and the world just went on without him like nothing happened?

“...Sans remembered him,” Grillby said, though he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to share that. 

That was the one part that didn’t quite work with this theory. Why would only Sans remember this monster, even if he had ultimately forgotten too? Was there a factor that Grillby was missing? Why was he actually entertaining these ideas at all?

The child laughed again, breaking him from this thoughts. “You know, that does make me feel a little better about this. Thank you.”

“Do...do you know who Dr. Gaster is?” Grillby asked.

It was quiet. Then they turned to look at the river again. “Please forget about me.”

The request was so sudden Grillby nearly flinched. A static sound started ringing around him.

“What do you mean? Do you need help?”

“Please don’t think about this anymore,” the child said softly, almost as hint of pleading in their voice.

There was so many things Grillby wanted to ask, needed to know. He tried to find a way to start, but it was too late.

The child was gone, almost like they had never been there in the first place.

Grillby’s soul started hammering in his chest, breathing erratic. His body went into auto-pilot, taking a shaky step back, two step, a full on sprint. He didn’t even worry about the water anymore. He just needed to get back to his boys. It was the only thing he could focus on amidst the terror.

The static seemed to be growing, a deafening buzz of sound nearly suffocating him. It was hard to not get disoriented with the incessant hum of noise, the shock of what he just saw, the new information he had to work with, and - wait. Wait. This wasn’t the way he came.

Grillby slowed to a stop, unable to recognize any of the scenery. The path was far narrower, the ceiling was devoid of the gems he had brought his sons here to see. There was only one hallway from where he came, though. Unless he had somehow passed by the boys and the telescope, which was nearly impossible at this point. He looked around, trying to reorient himself.

Instead he found himself face to face with a door in the wall. A door he had definitely not passed by before.

It stood before him, looming ominously. The static seemed stronger there, almost as if that was where it was coming from. The air filled with a wild energy, screaming at him to get away as fast as possible. And yet he was finding it hard to get himself to move, his legs frozen in place.

A mystery door in a hallway that shouldn’t exist.

It was very intriguing, wasn’t it?

He ended up going with his gut. Once his legs decided to work again he turned around sharply, ready to run.

Right into Papyrus.

The boy reached out and grabbed his shirt, barely avoiding falling backward. “WOAH!”

Grillby mumbled something back, maybe it was ‘sorry’? He honestly couldn’t tell. He was too preoccupied in grounding himself. Looking around, he realized he was back in the room he left the boys in. The static had stopped, and when he glanced back he saw only the normal hallway he had originally gone down. No door. It was fine. He was back and safe. Everything was good.

Then why did his soul still feel like it was going to beat out of his chest?

Small arms wrapped themselves around his waist, just when the panic was getting unbearable. He exhaled his anxiety, body relaxing. Somewhere in that moment he returned Papyrus’ hug, squeezing him gently.

Papyrus looked up at him. “DID YOU SEE A GHOST TOO?”

“A ghost?” Grillby repeated, trying to keep his voice calm.

“YEAH! I SAW ONE A SECOND AGO. AT FIRST I WAS SCARED, BUT THEN THEY SAID ‘OH DEAR’ AND WENT AWAY.” He explained.

“...Yeah. I think I did,” Grillby admitted. Probably not the kind Papyrus saw, but ‘ghost’ was the best way to describe that child. 

Papyrus drew back. “I’VE BEEN MAKING A NEW FRIEND WHILE SANS WORKS ON THE TELESCOPE, BUT THEY KEEP TALKING FUNNY…”

There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the general area. Grillby did his best to not let the panic return. “What kind of friend?”

“I’LL SHOW YOU!” Papyrus grabbed his hand and led him over to the opposite side of the room. Standing in the corner was a tall, glowing flower. “WATCH!” He let go and walked up to the plant. “HI, I’M PAPYRUS!”

_ “HI, I’M PAPYRUS!” _

“NO, I’M PAPYRUS!”

_ “NO, I’M PAPYRUS!” _

“NUH-UH! WE CAN’T BOTH BE PAPYRUS!”

_ “NUH-UH! WE CAN’T BOTH BE PAPYRUS!” _

He turned back to Grillby, gesturing exasperated at the flower. “SEE?” 

Grillby couldn’t help but sound amused. “That’s not a monster, Papyrus. That’s an echo flower.”

“HUH? CAN FLOWERS NOT BE MONSTERS TOO?” 

Well, he supposed it wasn’t impossible. “They can, but these ones aren’t. They just repeat what you tell them.”

“OH…” His eyes widened in understanding. “OH!”

Grillby motioned for him to follow, walking over to Sans. The boy was glued to the viewfinder, bouncing on the heels of his feet.

“Why don’t we move to another room? There’s more to see over there,” Grillby suggested, desperate to get as far away from the phantom hallway as he could without cutting their day short.

“ok, i think i’ve mapped out everything here anyways,” Sans replied.

They loaded the telescope back onto the cart and wheeled it down a new path. Along the way Grillby wondered how ticked Fuku would be when she found out where they went. Maybe he just wouldn’t bring it up next time he called.

They reached a room full of echo flowers, a ceiling just as dazzling as the one they left. 

“This is the wishing room. They say if you make a wish here it will come true,” Grillby explained.”Do you have anything you want to wish for?”

Sans thought it over. “I wish another human would fall down so Asgore can break the barrier.”

“And you Papyrus?”

Papyrus grabbed both of their hands and smiled. “MY WISH ALREADY CAME TRUE!”

They set up the telescope in a good spot and got back to work observing the stars. About an hour in they took a lunch break, eating the crabapples and sipping on sea tea. Both boys sat next to Grillby while they at, Sans fidgeting with his thermos somewhat nervously.

“Is everything alright?” Grillby asked.

“Uh...well, i just realized…” Sans mumbled sheepishly. “i kinda forgot to say this before...so i’ll say it now: thanks, dad. for everything.” 

Grillby felt his body tense up involuntarily. He hadn’t expected Sans to use that word for...who knows, maybe ever. And even then, it was supposed to be a good thing, right? He wanted this, right? What father didn’t want to be chosen by his son?

Of course, only if the son was choosing it of his own free will.

His flinch must have been visible, because Sans quickly backtracked. “i...i mean...pap calls you that...so i thought maybe i could too…” His cheekbones flushed a bit. 

“...you can call me whatever you want, Sans. As long as you’re okay with it,” Grillby assured. 

“ok.” Sans’ face brightened a bit. “i’m definitely ok with it!”

Papyrus looked so happy he could burst, and honestly Grillby wished he could join him in the celebration. Sans was finally accepting him. This what what he always wanted. And yet it felt wrong. So, so wrong. He knew Sans. He knew how Sans was before, how hesitant he was about Grillby’s new position in his life. But when Grillby had taken the notebook, he had forced Sans’ hand. Sans didn’t have anyone else to hold that fatherly position after he forgot - it only left Grillby.

That wasn’t fair.

Especially now, when things still weren’t adding up. When there were still large doubts. When so much pointed to Dr. Gaster being real.

It wasn’t fair to take that away from Sans. It shouldn’t have been Grillby’s right to decide for him.

He made up his mind. When they got home he would return the notebook - maybe place it somewhere for Sans to find and remember on his own. He would be supportive. He would help Sans through whatever he chose and, hopefully, get closer to the truth of their past. It was only right. 

That was the only thing he really wanted. To do what was right for his boys.

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and stargazing, though Grillby couldn’t help but be preoccupied by all that happened and all that was to come. In the end, the trip to Waterfall had been a lot more than he had bargained for, but he knew the decisions he had come to was for the best. 

They brought the telescope with them onto the boat back to Snowdin. Papyrus was still a ball of energy but Sans passed out almost as soon as the ride started, snuggling up against Grillby. Stars, he was going to miss this. Nothing good came without some sort of sacrifice though.

The Riverperson hummed as they went along. “Tra la la~ Beware the man who speaks in hands.”

When they arrived home, the notebook was nowhere to be found.


	13. I Career About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby visits the kids' school and Sans continues to widen his vocabulary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A semi-regular update? No way! I doubt the next chapter will come as quickly, its going to be a long one, and this one, while important for pacing purposes and setting up plot points, is much more fluffy than most.   
> Thank you again for all the comments and kudos!  
> ...also I had to add a new tag. I'm so sorry.

The school hallway seemed a lot smaller than Grillby remembered. It wasn’t even that long ago that he had been here for Fuku’s middle school graduation. He supposed it was different then, though. Then he was just the uncle that sometimes dropped his niece off or volunteered for school activities so that the bar could stay open. Now he was a father. This was the building where his sons spent most of their time. It felt like almost a completely new place.

Grillby tried to recall what his own school had been like. He hadn’t been able to finish his education before the war broke out. From what he was told the humans burned the structure down. These walls were filled with crayon drawings and other projects the students had made. Maybe it had looked something like this?

“Oh, hi there Grillby!”

He turned. It was Bonny, brushing off some snow from her ears.

“Hello,” He greeted.

“Looks like we both made it just in time, huh?” She joked, seeing as they were the only parents there so far. “This is your first school function with the boys, right?”

He nodded, maybe a bit too stiffly.

Bonny looked at him incredulously. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re nervous! You did this with Fuku, didn’t you?”

“...that wasn’t like this,” Grillby said quietly.

He had barely been a young adult when Fuku was here. It had always felt like he was an older sibling more than a caretaker. 

“You are the first monster I’ve ever seen get worked up over career day! Relax, it’ll be fun!” She insisted.

He nodded again, calmer this time, hoping it would reassure her. Honestly it was a lot more complicated than just career day. He could easily go up in front of a room of kids and talk about running a restaurant; he couldn’t promise it would be entertaining but it wouldn’t be hard. No, it was more than that, but he knew Bonny, or anyone else for that matter, wouldn’t understand. Raving about a disappearing grey child, a monster who may have existed but doesn’t anymore and a notebook that vanished from his closet in a locked house - it didn’t exactly make any of his worries sound credible.

It had been nearly two weeks since their trip to Waterfall and the notebook was still nowhere to be seen. He had scoured the house, the restaurant, even checking the Librarby just to be sure. Nothing. Not even a glimpse of the bookmark he had left tucked in the pages. It was both infuriating and terrifying. He needed to return it to Sans, to atone for his guilt. What if he never found it? What if he had to live the rest of his life like this, knowing he had manipulated the child into loving him?

That was the hardest part. Seeing how much Sans had changed. Before he used to be a comfortable distance from Grillby anytime they were in the same room. Now he went out of his way to get close, even falling asleep against him on the couch. He was much more engaged with what was going on in the house instead of holed up writing. It seemed healthier for the boy in the long run, and healthier for their family life, but Grillby had forced it instead of letting it happen naturally. 

He had Dr. Blathers convince him it was for Sans’ good. Grillby wondered if all along, though, he had actually decided to do it for himself.

It only made him feel even more disgusting.

More parents entered the building, crowding the small hallway. Thankfully they didn’t have to stay there long. A teacher opened one of the doors, ushering everyone into the auditorium. Or, what they called an auditorium. It was more like a big room with a bunch of tables set up, along with a large clear area in front. Grillby was pretty certain this was also where they ate and had recess if the weather was too rough. 

All the kids were seated at the tables, the younger ones getting excited as they recognized their parents. Papyrus nearly leapt from his seat when he saw Grillby, waving frantically and smacking the chair in between his brother and himself. The elemental walked over and took his spot next to both boys.

Sans was leaning back on his chair, one eye closed. “oh, hi dad.”

There was that word again. A reminder of what an awful person he was. It was hard to not visibly wince. 

“it feels like it’s been forever. what was it, this morning?” Sans joked.

“IT  _ WAS _ THIS MORNING, SANS!” Papyrus corrected, annoyed. “TWO HOURS AND TWENTY THREE MINUTES AGO!”

“right again, bro! you’re so smart.”

“I KNOW! MRS. SNOWDRAKE SAYS SO TOO!” Papyrus beamed.

Bonny was at the table across from them, her cohort of school aged children filling out the rest of the seats. It was terrifying to think there were at least ten more still at home. Papyrus saw her and waved, calling out her name loudly. She waved back, smiling. All of the kids around her were suddenly interested in the ceiling or the floor. Grillby couldn’t help but wonder if that meant anything. He tried not to dwell on it.

The teachers got up front, clapping their hands twice. Almost instantly all the children went silent and clapped back. Even Papyrus shut his mouth and sat waiting in attention. That was some pretty powerful clapping.

Mrs. Snowdrake stood in the middle of the teachers, smiling approvingly. “Good job, everyone! Now, let’s get started.”

And thus, the career day finally began. They went from table to table, bringing up the parent along with their children and having them explain their job, while giving some time afterward for questions. It was all rather rote but most of the kids seemed happy enough just to have their parents there. Wolfgang discussed his ice business and how sending the cubes down the river regulated the heat of machinery in Hotland. Mr. Snowdrake gave a family-friendly demonstration of one of his stand-up routines. Bonny told them about her shop, hinting at the secret ingredient in the cinnamon bunnies. 

Finally, it was Grillby’s turn. He stood up and took his place up front, Sans and Papyrus standing beside him. Looking over the small crowd, he suddenly wondered if he should have prepared anything to say - he had just figured he was going to wing it, but now he was struggling to come up with anything.

He decided to start with the basics. “My name is Grillby, and these are my sons Sans and Papyrus. I own a restaurant called…’Grillby’s’.”

It always felt stupid calling it that. Not like he could do anything about it either: he hadn’t been the one to name it, and he wasn’t going to change it now. 

He wasn’t really sure what to discuss next. His first instinct was beer production, but for some reason he didn’t think that would go over well with this crowd.  

“Running a restaurant is more than just cooking food. You need to clean everything and keep track of money.”

Well. He was boring them all to death. Good job, Grillby.

“It’s hard work but it's...very rewarding…” He began, fumbling around for something to say.

“ALSO IT’S VERY YUMMY!”Papyrus added, causing some chuckles from the adults.

“Yes, it is very yummy,” Grillby agreed.

Mrs. Snowdrake seemed to sense that he had nothing else to say. “Does anyone have questions for Mr. Grillby?”

A young Ice Cap spoke up. “What’s your favorite food to make?”

“Probably fries,” Grillby mused. The hardest part was slicing the potatoes, and you could cook large quantities at once - of course, not until you needed them, because they got cold and soggy quick.

“Do you use an oven or do you just...use yourself?” A bear’s parent asked.

“...would probably burn without an oven,” Grillby mumbled. While it was possible to cook food with his own flames,it was hardly practical, especially at the quantity he usually kept.

One of the bunny children raised their hand. “Why did you want to have a restaurant?”

The entire room went silent. Bonny immediately looked horrified, giving an apologetic glance Grillby’s way. In fact, most of the adults at this point appeared to be clearly uncomfortable. They already knew, but it wasn’t the child’s fault that they didn’t. It was a very innocent question, just one that unfortunately had a lot tied to it. A dull pounding started in the back of his head. 

“It’s...a family business,” He said simply.

The teachers thanked him for his time and the three of them sat back down. There. That was over. It definitely could have been worse.

A few more parents presented after him but honestly he didn’t pay much attention. It was hard enough to concentrate with his head throbbing, so he just focused on riding that wave of pain out.

Once career day was officially over, it meant it was time for lunch. The parents were allowed to eat with the kids, but after that it was going to be treated like a regular school day. Papyrus pulled two sacks out of his backpack, one for him and one for Grillby. They had found out quickly that he didn’t like anything they served for lunch at school, so packing was a necessity. Sans still ate the school lunch, but he was easy to please - as long as he could drench it in ketchup he was more than good.

Some faculty wheeled out a few carts of food and drink to the front of the room, a handful of students already getting up to form lines. The food smelled okay but Grillby had still packed to be on the safe side. Honestly, flavor didn’t matter much to him, considering the food itself burnt up rather fast. Sometimes, though, depending on what the fuel is made of, it could adversely affect his flames, making them pop or crackler or, worst of all, billow smoke. It was always embarrassing to eat something a tad too wet and have smoke wafting off of you for the rest of the day.

Papyrus looked over the food in his sack, like he was counting something, “OH! THAT’S RIGHT! MILK!” He jumped out of his seat, dashing over to the drink line. “I’LL BE RIGHT BACK!”

Milk was the one thing he bought at school. It needed to be fresh, apparently, to make it better for his bones.

“hey, uh...dad?” Sans asked nervously once Papyrus was out of earshot.

“Yes, Sans?” Grillby asked, concerned at the sudden trepidation.

“so...i know it’s supposed to be like, a family lunch ‘n all, but i usually tutor some kids during lunch, and they have a big test on friday…” He looked ashamed, like he was honestly worried he might be hurting Grillby’s feelings by doing this.

Before, he would have just left without asking.

“Of course. Have fun,” Grillby insisted.

Sans studied him, as if making sure it really was okay, then relaxed. “thanks dad!”

Grillby watched him stride over to a table on the other side of the room where a small group of furry students greeted him warmly, books already set out. They all looked older than him by a few grades. Grillby guessed the teachers were right when they said he could move up to high school classes. Absently, he wondered if the boy would be engaged at all in school if he still had the notebook…

“Grillby, I’m so sorry!”

The voice shook him from his thoughts quick. It was Bonny, standing in front of him looking mortified.

“Beatrix didn’t know...I mean, she was at the funeral but I don’t think she really understood…” she trailed off, biting her lip.

“It’s okay, Bonny. It was just a question. She meant nothing by it,” Grillby assured, hoping his headache wasn’t apparent.

“...not a very sensitive one,” she countered.

Grillby shrugged. “The oven one was worse.”

Bonny blinked, then burst out laughing. “Was that a joke, Grillby? I don’t think I’ve ever heard one from you before!”

Humor could be a great deflection if used correctly. 

She returned to her table, where the bunny kids were threatening to start a mini food fight, just as Papyrus appeared with his milk. He set it down on the table and took out his blanket, draping it over his lap. Once settled he retrieved the oatmeal bar from his sack. It had taken them awhile to figure out what Papyrus could bring with him to eat at lunch. Oatmeal was still his go to, but there was no way to transport near boiling water without it cooling. They reached a compromise, Grillby discovering a way to bake oatmeal, even with the dinosaurs in them, in a bar form. Portable and delicious.

Grillby started to eat his own meal, a small amount of wood chippings. It wasn’t especially delicious but far more nutritional than most fuels. He had marinated these in some maple extract to try and add something to the taste. From the first few pieces it seemed to be working. 

Papyrus gnawed on the bar as he took out a piece of paper and a pencil, starting to draw rather furiously. Grillby peered over to see what was so interesting, but found that the page was so far indecipherable. 

“What are you working on?” he asked.

“I’M WORKING ON MY SPECIAL ATTACK! IT’S GOING TO BE AWESOME!” Papyrus explained. He looked around nervously. “YOU CAN’T GIVE SANS ANY HINTS. IT’S A SURPRISE.”

Considering he couldn’t make out any of the picture so far, he doubted he could tell Sans anything. 

They took their time eating, Grillby asking a very distracted Papyrus about school, who could really only be bothered to eat and plan at this point. Whatever this special attack was, it was going to be a must see. After about half an hour one of the teachers whistled loudly, bringing the students to attention. 

“OH, IT’S RECESS!” Papyrus announced. “WE USED TO HAVE A RECESS WHISTLE BUT SOMEONE TOOK IT SO NOW MR. WALTER DOES IT HIMSELF!”

Seems like everything was going missing nowadays. If only they had lost something as frivolous as a whistle. 

Grillby packed up the sacks, Papyrus finishing off the last of his milk. “I have to go now, Papyrus, okay?”

“I KNOW,” He replied, but he didn’t look very happy about it. “BUT SCHOOL WILL BE OVER IN THREE HOURS AND SEVENTEEN MINUTES.”

Grillby nodded. “And then we can make dinner.”

“OKAY…” Papyrus pouted.

Grillby walked over and rubbed the back of his head. “Have fun and learn a lot, okay?”

“I WILL!” He promised. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Grillby’s waist. “I LOVE YOU, DAD!”

“I love you too, Papyrus.”

Once Papyrus finally released him from his grasp, Grillby made his way over to say goodbye to his other son. It looked like the tutoring session was ending along with the lunch, all the books and notes being packed up. Sans’ grin brightened as he saw Grillby approach.

“hey, time for you to go already?”

Grillby nodded.

“ok. thanks for coming, pap really enjoyed it.”

“And you?” Grillby asked. 

“hmmm…” He considered this. “i think you all did a great  _ job _ this career day.”

Grillby tried to muster some sympathetic laughter, but the pun was a little too painful.

“welp, we have to go outside. got to get that exercise ‘n all.” Sans slid out of his chair and looked up at Grillby. “see ya later, dad. love ya.”

He said it so casually and yet it was entirely earnest. He meant it. This was the first time he ever told Grillby he loved him and he meant it. Grillby had wanted this for so long, and now?

Now all it did was make him feel sick.

“I love you too,” Grillby assured.

Stars, he could never say that enough. He loved him so much. So much that it physically hurt. Looking at him now, he could still see the starving boy that had shown up in his bar all those months ago, desperate to get help for his brother.

Sans waved and walked out to the doors along with the other students. Grillby watched, suddenly feeling something different than crippling guilt: responsibility. Sans was still that lost child that needed him, and so was Papyrus. Grillby couldn’t help either of them if he kept acting like this. The notebook was gone. He could still look for it, but wallowing in guilt over his decision and its consequences wouldn’t do any good. He just had to live with it and continue to give his sons the best environment he could in spite of it all.

The auditorium was almost empty at this point, save for some faculty cleaning up the tables and food carts. Everyone else was already on their way home or out to enjoy their recess. Grillby left the room, wondering what he would do when he got home. The bar was closed because of the school activity, so there wasn’t anything pressing for him to get done. Maybe he would take a nap. That actually sounded really good right now.

As he meandered down the hallway toward the entrance to the school he heard something. Muffled conversation from behind one of the classroom doors, slightly ajar. It sounded like two children, which didn’t make sense: during recess all the kids were either inside or out, you couldn’t just decide to stay in. It wasn’t really any of Grillby’s business though, so he passed by without much thought.

Or at least, it wasn’t any of his business until he heard them mutter one of his sons’ names.

“...still can’t believe they let Papyrus in our class. He’s so loud and he never knows the answer to any of the questions!”

Grillby froze, not able to believe what he was hearing. The exchange continued.

“Y-yeah! He’s a real bonehead!”

“...that wasn’t funny, Snowy.”

“...s-sorry, Chill…”

“He carries that dumb blanket around everywhere too, and he doesn’t let anyone touch him. What is he, a baby?”

“My dad said his old parents liked to beat his head in. That’s probably why he’s so stupid.”

Enough. He had heard more than enough. His flames were flickering wildly, on the verge of bursting out. The door slammed open, revealing the culprits: the Snowdrake child and his cousin, who was sporting a pair of sunglasses. Both boys jumped out of their skin, eyes wide and faces paling as they realized they had been caught and then recognized who it was exactly who had overheard their conversation. It probably would have been scary enough even without him looking like a wall of fire ready to explode on them at any second. Feathers and flames didn’t really work well together. 

“...aren’t you two supposed to be outside?” he asked, his voice crackling with all the heat currently building up inside of him.

The cousin opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, defend themselves maybe, but all that came out was a terrified squeak. Snowdrake was far more proactive, grabbing his cousin’s wing and dragging both of them through the door and past Grillby, not once looking back. Good. If they had hesitated once, Grillby wasn’t sure if he could hold it in anymore.

He took a few minutes to just breathe, let himself regain control. That in and of itself was no easy task. Everytime he tried to remind himself it was okay, he remembered what he had just heard. It didn’t even compute with him. How could anyone even think something like that about Papyrus,  _ his _ Papyrus!? The Papyrus who went out of his way to make sure you were happy. Whose smiles made the day a little brighter. Who was clever and sweet and just wanted to do everything to the best of his ability. 

He knew his son had some quirks, that some monsters would not consider him ‘normal’, but Grillby wouldn’t change a thing about him. Sans had said it before: Papyrus was perfect.

Kids were mean. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered that from his own childhood. They found any and every reason to tear each other down, for no point other than that someone was different from them. He could feel himself calming down a bit. He was going to have to discuss this with Mrs. Snowdrake, see what the best course of action was. They weren’t his children, he couldn’t discipline them for saying such heinous things.

He really wished he could, though.

Once he felt stable enough that he wouldn’t accidentally burn down the school he started walking again, making his way outside. The cool air helped regulate his nearly out of control temperature. He sighed, tugging at the end of his coat. It was only halfway through the day and he was exhausted. Completely spent, and yet his mind couldn’t stop racing, making it almost impossible to truly relax.

Well, so much for that nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a common theme at this point is Grillby realizing his thinking is wrong and ammending it, but without addressing the issues of why he was putting so much pressure on himself in the first place. Oh well. He'll get to it eventually >w>


	14. You're Blue Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a long time again, I’m sorry. I’m going to ANOTHER convention tomorrow (kentokyocon!) and since its back to school time work upped my hours to about 40 a week so no free time really that hasn’t been used prepping merch or working on freelance work. Also I needed to make sure this chapter was good, so I took my time with it. I still think it gets kinda choppy near the end but after three passes I felt like I’d edited enough. Anyways, I hope you like it! I enjoyed writing it :)  
> Also just again, thank you so much for the support! All your comments make my day and we're really close to 4k hits and 350 kudos! Its really amazing to me.

The rubber gloves pinched against Grillby’s arms as he finished cleaning off the dishes. It was the weirdest feeling - it wasn’t like he had skin or any other solid surface on him, and his flames were always in a state of perpetual motion. Logically he shouldn't feel anything like this. His only explanation was that the material was rubbing against the silhouette his magic maintained, and somehow that manifested in a physical sensation. Or something like that.

The whole family had slept in today, opting for a Sunday brunch once they had finally woke. Throughout the meal Papyrus could not stay still, bouncing in his seat the whole time like he was going to burst with excess energy. It took a lot of prompting to get him to eat any of his cereal. He was only now starting to expand his food palette, and cereal had seemed like the best choice to try next. It was clear he loved the overabundance of milk but with all the moving around it made it hard for him to finish. Sans had asked if he was trying to ‘cerealy’ choke himself eating that way. 

Even now he was basically jumping on the couch, watching Grillby with an intense fixation.   

“Do you have something you want to say?” Grillby asked amusedly, turning off the water and taking off his gloves.

Papyrus nodded. “I WANT TO DO ANOTHER PRACTICE FIGHT WITH SANS!”

Ah. That explained all the excitement. Grillby looked over at his other son, who was lounging on the opposite end of the couch.

“wasn’t really planning on doing anything today,” Sans shrugged.

He had been completing all his homework during class, so it really did leave little to be done at home. At one point he had brought up that he was going to join the school band, but it turned out his interest mostly stemmed from a pun he wanted to tell about learning the trombone. Grillby bet, if left to his own devices, Sans could easily sleep the day away. Getting him to do anything would be beneficial, and Sans was always willing to get off of the couch if it meant making his brother happy.

Grillby walked over to the coat rack to get their outdoor gear.

“WAIT! I’LL BE RIGHT BACK!” Papyrus called out, jumping off his perch and dashing up the stairs.

The elemental paused for a moment, then continued to get ready, putting on his jacket, gloves and scarf. He also tossed Sans’ coat and mittens onto the couch, where the boy was stretching, delaying the inevitable departure from the cushions. Soon enough, Papyrus was stomping down to the first floor, dragging a cardboard box with bones sticking out the top behind him. It was a precarious trip down the steps, and several times Grillby was sure he was going to fall on his face, or lose half of his bounty, or both. Thankfully neither happened, and he made it to the bottom with the box, albeit a bit clumsily.

He ran over and threw on his jacket and hat, then rushed back to the box, sliding it across the floor toward the front door. “COME ON, LET’S GO!”

They followed him outside, Grillby opening the door so he could push the box out and then shutting it behind them to keep the snow from getting in. It was precipitating a smidge harder than usual, but not enough to deter Grillby from spending a day out in the front yard. They could easily head back inside if it got worse. Still, just to be safe, he pulled his scarf up to cover most of his face.

Papyrus was quick to get ready, setting the box up and then taking his place a few feet in front of it, posing confidently. “ARE YOU READY, SANS?”

“yup,” his brother replied, sitting himself down across the way, making a satisfied crunch in the fresh bed of snow. 

“NO! NO, YOU HAVE TO STAND UP!” Papyrus huffed.

“i’m not sitting it out, pap. just sitting down,” Sans joked.

“YOU NEVER TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY!” He pouted.

Sans’ eyes softened a bit, then he slowly got up on his knees. “better?”

Papyrus looked at him for a moment, contemplating. “BETTER.”

Grillby zoned up on the sidelines and the fight officially began. It went pretty much the same as last time, Papyrus sending out attacks with incredible precision while Sans put in minimal effort to keep the battle going. The only real difference was Papyrus’ restlessness. He jumped from foot to foot, occasionally sneaking quick glances back to the box. It was clear that he was anxious to show off whatever he had come up with. Considering how long he had been planning it, it had to be something cool. 

Grillby wished he could say he wasn’t nervous again, but it was still hard to watch his sons having attacks thrown at them, even if they were never going to hit. He tried to focus on the positives: namely, Papyrus’ strategy and magic control. For someone whose magic only emerged a few months ago, he was displaying and amazing proficiency. He planned coordinated moves that would take some thinking to dodge - impressive for a six year old. And yet there was absolutely no ill intent behind his attacks. He guided the bones in a way that would provide minimal damage, even if they weren’t swerving away from Sans before they would hit. Occasionally he even gave hints on how to avoid the hits when it was clear they would be a bit tricky. It really reflected his heart, his unwillingness to hurt others, and that made Grillby so proud of his compassionate child.

At the same time, he was terrified of what would happen if Papyrus was ever put in a situation where he would really have to defend himself.

“YOU BETTER STEP IT UP, SANS!” Papyrus taunted. “YOU WON’T BE READY FOR MY SPECIAL ATTACK!” 

“oh, so you finally have one?” Sans asked, flicking a bone halfway over, which promptly buried itself in a snow poff.

“YES! AND IT’S SO GREAT, YOU CAN’T EVEN STOP IT!” 

A row of bones shot out, some even hovering a bit off the ground, coming to a halt about a foot in front of Sans. The boy didn’t even flinch.

“really? even if i use  _ my _ special attack?” 

It looked like a bone appeared but quickly dematerialized.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DO THAT BECAUSE YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT MY SUPER COOL ATTACK IS!”

A series of attacks spelling out ‘cool’ filled up the battle area.

“got me there, pap. wouldn’t want to miss the debut of your special attack for the world.”

Sans lifted a finger, but whatever he summoned didn’t even break the surface of the snow. 

“GOOD, BECAUSE I’M GOING TO START IT SOON!”

Another attack, this time a little sloppy and erratic. Papyrus was bouncing on his heels so quickly he was almost a blur. 

Sans looked like he was going to say something, some quip most likely, but he hesitated. His head tilted slightly, peering past his brother. “uh...not too sure about that, bro.”

Papyrus blinked, lowering his hand. “HUH? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”

“looks like someone else really wants to see your special attack,” he said, pointing to whatever had caught his attention. 

Both Papyrus and Grillby turned to look. At first the elemental couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be seeing: the only things in his line of sight was the box of bones and the snow covered ground. Nothing worth taking note of.

Then the box moved.

It rustled from side to side, some of its contents spilling over the brim. Grillby almost wondered if he was seeing things when suddenly a furry head popped out of the top. It was a small white dog, barely visible amidst the snowy backdrop, gnawing on one of the bones. He thought he knew all the dogs in Snowdin, most of them regulars at the bar, but this one looked entirely unfamiliar. Perhaps one of Lesser’s relatives?

They all stared at the intruder, who seemed too focused on chewing his treat to notice them. 

Papyrus quickly lost his patience. “DOG! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?”

There was no way you could ignore that. The dog started, eyes wide. 

He put his hands on his hips, frowning. “THAT’S  _ MY  _ SPECIAL ATTACK! YOU CAN’T JUST - HEY!” 

The dog didn’t even let him finish berating, jumping out of the box, knocking it over in the process, and bolting off. Without any semblance of hesitation, the boy dashed after it, narrowly avoiding Grillby’s attempt to catch him. 

“Papyrus, wait!” He called, arm still reaching out. Running about in this weather wasn’t wise, especially since the dog could be leading them who knows where. 

“I HAVE TO GET MY SPECIAL ATTACK!” Papyrus’ voice echoed back. He showed no intention of stopping, and Grillby knew his son. He knew he wouldn’t give up something this important to him this quickly. 

“c’mon, dad!” Sans prompted, starting after them.

Yep. He had no choice. The chase was on. 

They raced through Snowdin town, past the restaurant, the Librarby, the inn and the shop, even the welcome sign. No one was really out and about, as it was a Sunday, but the few monsters who were gawked at the sight. It wasn’t every day you saw skeletons and a man of fire chasing after a dog.

Sans was surprisingly keeping pace, moving faster than Grillby had ever seen him. At one point it even looked like he had somehow appeared in front of Grillby when the elemental knew he had been behind only a second earlier. Must’ve been an optical illusion with all the snow falling.

The chase took them outside of town, all the way to the chasm with the stone bridge laying across. Grillby felt his chest tighten as Papyrus approached it - stars, they were so high up! - but there were barriers around the sides of the bridge, reaching about halfway up Papyrus’ head. It made it safe to cross, but it didn’t stop Grillby from nearly having a heart attack. He watched as his son ran across with little to no regard to how long a fall he would take if the bridge somehow gave way. Papyrus was definitely more concerned about catching the dog at this point. 

“hey...uh…” 

Grillby nearly tripped over his legs coming to a stop, turning around quickly. Sans was a few feet back, hands on his knees. He smiled up weakly. Obviously he had hit his limit. In all honesty, it was surprising he had made it this far. It would take some more time and energy, but Grillby wasn’t about to leave one of his sons out here alone. He scooped the boy up onto his back and continued on, keeping his gaze locked ahead as he crossed the bridge, knowing his legs would give out if he even so much as glanced down. 

It was getting harder to keep track of Papyrus. The snow was picking up, and Grillby strained his vision to find the red snowgear amid the roaring sea of white. He nearly ran into Greater’s sentry station, causing the guard to yap in alarm. He mentally apologized but didn’t waste the precious moments to say it aloud; maybe on the way back he could explain it all. For now, he had to focus on following Papyrus.

They made a sharp turn left, leading down a small hill. Grillby found it difficult to keep his footing at this speed, slowing down a bit to remain steady. Papyrus wasn’t paying nearly as much attention to his steps. It took less than a minute for him to lose his balance, tumbling down the rest of the slope. Grillby felt his breath hitch as he lost sight of the boy.

“Papyrus!?” He cried, using his heels to slide down the rest of the way. Snow was assaulting his vision, covering his glasses and fogging everything around him. He looked around desperately, praying for even a glimpse of his hat or gloves. 

Some movement caught his eye, and he rushed toward it. As he ventured forth a tall brown figure emerged from the flurries: Gyftrot. The solitary monster was rarely seen in town, and Grillby hardly blamed them. The teens abused Gyftrot on such a regular basis, it was surprising to see them without any intruding decorations stuck all over their body. Only during Gyftmas would you catch sight of them, and even then it would only be for a short time.

“Ah, I’m sorry, have...have you seen…” Grillby began as he slowed to a stop in front of them, panic overwhelming his already shoddy communication skills.

“...I believe you are looking for this small one,” Gyftrot drawled, lowering their head. Grillby followed their line of sight.

Immediately he felt like he could breathe again. Papyrus was sitting by Gyftrot’s hooves, covered in snow and looking a little dizzy, but other than that, unharmed.

“...THAT WASN’T ANY FUN…” he mumbled.

“No, it wasn’t,” Grillby agreed, lifting the boy onto his feet with his free hand. The elemental redirected his attention gratefully toward Gyftrot. “Thank you.”

The hermit shook their head like it was no trouble to them, then motioned behind. “The thief lives in there.”

It was a small cave opening carved into the side of the hill. Undoubtedly that was where the dog and Papyrus’ bone would be. Seeking some shelter from the ever growing snowfall didn’t seem like a bad idea either. He nodded in appreciation, Gyftrot nodding back. 

“THANK YOU!” Papyrus called as he was led forward, legs still a little wobbly. 

The three of them hurried into the cave, more than ready to leave the snow behind. Grillby couldn’t help but sigh as soon as they entered, relieved to have the precipitation no longer assaulting his face every second. Without the wind it was also a bit warmer, and that was a plus.

“you can put me down now,” Sans said, voice muffled in Grillby’s back.

Grillby knelt down and let the boy jump off onto the ground. Once the weight on his back was lifted he straightened up, adjusting his shoulders and wiping his glasses on the end of his jacket. It was only then that he could really see what they had walked into. The cave was more like a small foyer, with four mushrooms near the corners and a door on the far end with a delta rune emblazoned on it, slightly ajar. Flecks of blue light appeared to float about in the air around them. It seemed very out of place in Snowdin. Grillby wondered why he had never heard of this area before.

Papyrus approached one of the mushrooms and cautiously touched it, causing it to illuminate. He turned to Grillby with wide eyes. “ARE WE IN WATERFALL?”

“No,” Grillby said slowly, though it surely looked like they were. 

He walked over to the door, pushing on it gently to get it open all the way. His sons followed behind him as he entered the new room. The first thought that ran through his mind was that there was no trace of the thieving dog. The second was that it would almost be impossible to spy the perpetrator even if they were here. The floor was covered in piles of junk, the items almost indistinguishable in the messy heaps. Only an old desktop computer on the back wall stood out, it’s monitor flickering lightly. If there was any place Papyrus’ bone would be, it would definitely be here. Even though it would be easier for him to just conjure a new one, Grillby knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he retrieved the bone made specifically for his special attack. 

Sans sighed overdramatically. “well, pap, might as well get started.” 

He shuffled over to one of the piles to start looking. Papyrus scrunched up his nasal cavity, rubbing his fingers together as he went after his brother. The disorder was likely overwhelming him. Hopefully they could get this done quickly and return him to a more comfortable environment.

Grillby turned to the mound closest to him, ready to get to work. Kneeling down he began to pick through the junk, careful not to make it a bigger mess than it already was. The dog definitely was some sort of packrat. About anything and everything was here. So far Grillby had come across a paperweight, a whistle, marbles, and…

He stiffened, looking down at the object in front of him. The Librarbrian’s stamp. The one that had gone missing nearly a month prior. Now that he thought about it, almost everything he had found so far was something he knew had been reported missing. Stolen. With the amount of piles around, everything that was stolen could easily be contained in this room. If all those thing were here, then that would also mean…

“OH! OH, HERE IT IS! SANS, LOOK! I FOUND MY SPECIAL ATTACK! ...SANS?”

Grillby hesitantly looked up, Sans’ refusal to answer his brother already sending off alarms in his head. It didn’t get any better. The older boy was standing stock still in the middle of the room, eyelights extinguished. He was clutching onto something small, hard to see in the low light. The desktop monitor flashed on again, the glow catching something shiny in Sans’ grasp. A sparkly bookmark.

Grillby’s bookmark.

He felt like the entire Underground was crashing around him.

“...what is this…?” Sans asked quietly.

Grillby could hardly even think straight, blind panic coursing through his body. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. This wasn’t how he planned this to go.

“...this...its mine, isn’t it?” He sounded confused, distant. 

Papyrus eventually seemed to notice something was off. He held his newly found bone close to his chest, taking big, deep breaths of air as he started at his brother in apprehension.

Grillby managed the mental acrobatics required to form words. “...Papyrus, why don’t you go wait in the other room.”

He didn’t want the boy stuck in the middle of this. None of this was his fault. Papyrus was torn, eyes flicking between Sans and Grillby in anguish. Finally he did as he was told, nearly tripping in his rush to leave. 

That just left the two of them. Suddenly everything seemed colder, icy. The kind of cold that could snuff a flame in an instant. It was eerily quiet, the absence of sound only furthering Grillby’s anxiety. This was not good. Not good. He hadn’t prepared himself for this situation and now that he was in it the only thing he could do was let it tear him apart. 

“...you knew…” Sans mumbled, his pupiless gaze directed at the bookmark. Then he violently ripped it out of the pages, throwing it down to the ground. “you knew this whole time!?”

His head jerked up, the hollow sockets boring into Grillby’s soul. The elemental could barely get himself to breathe. It was overwhelming.

He felt his sins crawling on his back.

“you took it from me…” Sans realized, voice cracking. “you took  _ him _ from me…?”

Grillby couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to do something. Anything to stop this from hurting Sans anymore. Unable to think of words he shakily took a step forward, wanting urgently to comfort the boy in some way.

“ n o .”

Small rings of light appeared in both of Sans’ eyes, flashing blue then yellow. Then he vanished. Grillby nearly cried out, only to have the boy reappear a few feet back from where he had been standing, almost as if he hadn’t moved at all, eyes still glowing. 

Had he just...teleported? 

Grillby started to take another step forward. Everything was going too quickly, too  _ wrong _ , for him to truly understand what was going on, but he did know that letting Sans run off in this state was not good. And yet he wasn’t even able to stop that. He had hardly begun to move his leg when there was a sharp tugging sensation in his chest. Suddenly he was forced to his knees, an invisible pull dragging him to the ground. It was like his body was made of lead. He could barely breathe, his own weight feeling like it was going to crush him. Dimly, he realized that something was floating in front of him. His soul, dyed a deep blue, struggling against the gravitational force.

“ y o u  l i e d  t o  m e .”

Sans no longer sounded like himself, dark and empty, volume raising every second, full of judgement.

“you lied to b o t h o f  u s  .”’

His eyes started pulsing the two colors again, starting slow and progressively alternating faster. He was heaving quick, labored breaths as sweat started to form on his head. There was a tearing sound, then particles of matter appeared above him, gradually materializing into a large white mass. Once it had formed enough it became clear what it was: a large animalistic skull. 

A twelve year old had just summoned a giant weaponized skull. Grillby didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The magical construct stared down at Grillby in a way that almost suggested sentience, causing him to shudder. Magic began building up behind its jaws, filling the room with a growing hum. It was preparing for an attack, and from the sound of it it was going to be a big one.

If he was in a normal state of mind, Grillby knew his first instinct would be to run. Get out before this attack dealt whatever kind of ridiculous damage it would do. And for sure, he was scared. Terrified. So overcome with panic it was hard to think straight. But at the same time, he had no desire to run, to even try and fight against the weight on his soul. 

He deserved this.

Seeing what this was doing to Sans already was shattering his heart.

He deserved everything he had coming to him.

“you...you promised!” Sans cried in between strained gasps of breath. He sounded more like a child again in that moment, hot, angry tears welling in his eyes sockets. “you promised you would help us find him! ...y-you…”

It was almost like someone flipped off a switch. The boy’s eyelights flickered then blinked out completely, just before he collapsed forward, hitting the floor with a dull smack.

Almost immediately the hovering skull burst into pieces and dissipated. Grillby watched as the color drained from his soul, the upside down heart returning to his chest.

And then...nothing.

It was quiet.

“Sans!”

Grillby didn’t hesitate, rushing forward toward the boy as soon as the oppressive weight was lifted. His body was working on autopilot as his mind struggled to work through the panic. The only thing he could think of was Sans, and making sure he was okay. The boy was lying on the floor face first, limbs sprawled out. He was completely unresponsive, not even reacting to Grillby’s touch as the flame gently turned him over to check for injuries. A quick inspection only revealed some light bruising on his forehead, but that didn’t rule out any internal damage.

What was worrying Grillby the most was the stillness. There was no movement from the boy at all, not even a simple reflexive motion. Not even his chest rising and falling. Oh stars, was he even breathing!? Grillby searched in anguish for any sign. He felt a little bit of relief when he saw the small clouds of warm air caused by shallow breaths. Sighing, he reached over to prop Sans’ head up to make it easier to start lifting him into his arms.

It was then that he realized that Sans was soft. Pliable.

He flinched, drawing back. No. No, no, no. He was too hot. He was melting the child. In all the chaos maintaining his temperature hadn’t really been on the forefront of his anxiety-addled mind. He took a calming breath, focusing on his magic, trying not to think about what could have happened if he had continued to - 

Wait. He could feel his internal heat. It wasn’t any hotter than normal. Definitely not hot enough to melt bone. Grillby froze, then cautiously touched Sans’ head again. Soft, just like before. Almost like he could mold the bone into a different shape if he pressed hard enough. The slick texture of the boy’s body made Grillby feel sick.

This wasn’t right. Wasn’t right at all. Something was very, very wrong. With how still Sans was it didn’t even seem like he was just unconscious. It was almost...almost like he was falling.

No.

Not again.

He couldn’t waste anymore time. He fought against the headache that was already trying to seize what was left of his capable mind, carefully picking Sans and holding him gingerly against him left shoulder. The notebook was shoved into his pocket. In the other room he found Papyrus, covering his ‘ears’ and rocking slightly, staring blankly at the wall. The boy allowed himself to be lifted up as well, somewhat awkwardly considering Grillby only had one free arm. With both brothers in tow he raced out of the cave, not even stopping to consider what the weather outside was like. The snow immediately starting pelting him as soon as he got outside, burning his face, but he didn’t let that slow him down. He needed to get home and get a doctor, quickly. It was all that mattered now.

Stars, this was all his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay also in case anyone remembers I fixed a line in Chapter 7 that suggested only one of Sans' eyes could glow...I forgot about that plot point haha


	15. Why do we fall?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are different reactions to trauma. Some people don't talk at all. Some talk too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for two reasons - one, this took longer than I thought, and two, I'm not very happy with it. I struggled a lot with writing it and I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe because its mostly talking, maybe because the characters are kinda feeling the same emotions as last time and its hard to just keep describing those horrible things over and over again? I probably could have done better though, and I'm so sorry. I just had to end up forcing myself to write just to get anything down on paper, which is why the last half is so rushed and...ehhhhh. Hopefully the next one will be better.
> 
> Also thanks for all the kudos and the 4k hits! I really appreciate it!

The medical equipment’s beeping echoed in the boys’ room, sparing everyone from the sterile silence. Considering the nearest hospital was in Hotland, it was extremely fortunate that most local doctors had access to these instruments, especially when Snowdin was so far away. Even travelling by ferry there might not have been enough time. After they rang for Dr. Cottontail she had been able to get there within twenty minutes with all the tools she needed. Something about it being at home also took off some of the edge - hospitals always had an aura of depression around them. 

Unfortunately, Grillby’s anxiety was so high that even a little removed edge didn’t change much. He stood by the bed, foot tapping so quickly it was a wonder he hadn’t made a hole in the floor.

Dr. Cottontail sighed softly, looking up from the monitor she was consulting. “Grillby, you need to stop that. You’ll end up hurting yourself.”

He knew she was right, that she only had his best interest in mind, but she had to also know that simply telling him to stop wasn’t going to change anything. Not when his child was still lying motionless in his bed. At least they had been able to close his sockets; it almost looked like he was just sleeping.

So far Dr. Cottontail had been nothing but calm, or at least outwardly so. The only time she broke face was at the start when Grillby was frantically explaining what had happened, albeit leaving the circumstances with the notebook out, focusing on the change in Sans’ bone density. She had quickly examined the child, testing the solidity of the bone. When she was done she had smiled up at him sympathetically. Sans was as solid as could be, nothing out of the ordinary. No softness. 

That was when she had started coddling Grillby, treating him more sensitively. It was obvious she thought he was losing it, that he had somehow hallucinated this whole…‘melting’ thing. And maybe she was right. Maybe the stress had gotten to him. 

He knew he would be more than happy if he had imagined the whole thing.

The doctor wrote some notes on a chart then turned to Grillby, looking him over with concern. “You have a few water burns on your face. I can treat them if you…”

Grillby flinched, shaking his head a little too firmly, cutting her off. He figured he probably had some with how bad the snow had been and how carelessly he had raced home. Whatever pain they had caused had numbed out an hour ago though, which wasn’t exactly a healthy sign but at least they weren’t actively hurting him. 

In spite of all that, he couldn’t believe that she would even consider bringing this up now, especially when her actual patient was still showing no sign of waking.

“...ok.” She looked back at Sans. “His stats are stable and there’s no indication of them changing anytime soon. I think it's safe to say he hasn’t fallen.”

Oh, thank God. That was exactly what he needed to hear. 

“However, random loss of consciousness, especially for this long, is still worrying. I would like to stay and observe him for a bit, run some tests to see if we can determine what caused it.” She paused. “In the meantime, it might be best if you check in on your other son. I think he needs some care too.”

Grillby froze. Papyrus. Oh stars, _ Papyrus _ . He honestly had no idea where the boy even was. As soon as they had made it into the house he had put him down and then immediately called the doctor, keeping a tight grip on Sans the whole time until going to set him on the bed. He hadn’t seen the child once since then and - stars, how could he be so stupid!?

He nodded appreciatively toward Dr. Cottontail, then his gaze wandered back to Sans. So still. So frail-looking. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll still be here,” the rabbit assured. “I’ll yell down if anything changes.”

They’d just be a floor away. He could do this. Sans would be fine.  

Without overthinking it any further he stiffly turned around, walking out the door and down the stairs. Each step echoed through the house eerily, almost reminding him of the months spent in it alone before the boys had found him. The jar of dust appeared in the corner of his vision, and he jerkily kept his head forward, not wanting to focus on that right now. He realized he had never turned the lights on, and apparently Dr. Cottontail had done the same. Once he reached the ground floor he flipped the switch, illuminating the room beyond his flames’ soft glow.

Papyrus was nowhere to be seen. Grillby knew he had to be downstairs, he would have heard the clumsy footsteps coming up - unless of course he had been too tunnel-visioned to even notice that. Stars, he hoped not. Grillby scanned the living room, stopping when slight movement caught his eye. 

Wedged between the couch and the chair was a huddled figure covered by a familiar blanket, rocking back and forth. There he was. Grillby knelt down next to him, heart squeezing painfully as he watched the boy continue to try and soothe himself.

This was all his fault. It couldn’t be said enough.

“...Papyrus, are you alright?” Grillby asked gently. 

He already felt like he knew the answer. Papyrus didn’t respond, didn’t even acknowledge that he was there. Grillby could feel his anxiety spike, and he instinctively reached forward and grabbed the blanket to lift it up and make sure Papyrus was okay. Wrong move. The boy let out a high pitched whine and pulled the cloth down, fighting weakly against Grillby’s grasp. 

The elemental immediately let go, leaving Papyrus to keep rocking. He sat there, not sure what he could do without upsetting the boy any further. After a few minutes, Papyrus scooched over, leaning against Grillby’s chest. Slowly, Grillby could feel the nervous energy fading away, the rocking stopped. Good. He was definitely calmer.

“...Sans is going to be okay,” Grillby assured.

It felt like a lie. He had no idea if Sans was physically going to be okay, and he knew for a fact that the boy was not going to be fine emotionally for a long time. But Dr. Cottontail didn’t seem too concerned about Sans’ current condition. It was a small glimmer of hope in an otherwise bleak and desolate situation. He decided to cling to it instead of letting himself drown. He had to be there for both of his boys.

Papyrus still didn’t respond verbally, but he did sigh and stretch out a little bit, letting his feet peek out from under the blanket.

“...would you like to lay down in my bed?” 

It was a little earlier than Papyrus usually went to sleep, but Grillby could tell he was exhausted. 

Papyrus nodded- or at least it looked like he nodded, it was hard to tell with the blanket covering him.

Willingly going to bed? Yep, he had to be dead tired.

“Do you want me to carry you up?”

Another nod, then arms appeared from under the folds, lifted up to make it easier for him to be held. In one hand was Mighty Man, gripped so tightly it looked like the plastic might crack. Grillby stood up and took the boy in his arms, made slightly more difficult with the blanket but he managed. Once he had a good hold on him, the two of them walked up the stairs. Grillby briefly considered getting a book to read, but that would require going into the boys’ room, and he didn’t know if he could handle that right now. Dr. Cottontail probably wouldn’t let him anyways. 

He opened the door to his room and walked to his bed, placing Papyrus under the covers and sitting down next to him. Now settled, Papyrus slowly pulled his blanket down to reveal his face. The boy looked drained, cheeks stained with spent tears, a tad paler than he usually was. It nearly made Grillby sick to see him this way, especially when only mere hours before he had been so full of energy, so excited to show off what he had been working on. Now he was completely disinterested, depleted by the anxiety and discomfort the confrontation in the cave had caused. Even being in the other room hadn’t spared him, and with all the yelling and the magic charging it would have been hard to ignore it. Being essentially trapped in the middle of that ordeal had to be taxing; Grillby knew the only reason he was still standing was pure adrenaline. 

Papyrus squirmed a little bit, trying to get as comfortable as possible, then snuggled up against Grillby’s stomach, hugging Mighty Man. Grillby wrapped his arm around him, rubbing his back rhythmically. He focused on feelings of security and affection, wanting his son to feel valued. While so much of the future of this family seemed unsure, he knew that he was going to make sure the brothers were safe and loved. He wasn’t going to make another major mistake again. He wasn’t going to let  _ this _ happen again.

Papyrus leaned further into the warmth as his facial features softened, barely fighting his heavy lids. Grillby considered trying to relax himself, but that would be nearly impossible. Everything reminded him of what happened, of what could happen, stress seizing every part of his body. It was an awful, suffocating feeling, but he knew it would pass. It was only a fraction of what he deserved anyways. 

Seeing Papyrus starting to nod off, though, finally getting some peace in the midst of this mess, it made him feel a little better. He’d much rather endure this himself than have the boy going through the same hell too. 

Half an hour passed, then Dr. Cottontail appeared in the doorway, smiling sadly at the sight of Papyrus snoring lightly, nestled close to Grillby. She motioned toward the hallway and the elemental reluctantly got up, careful not to stir the child from his dreams. He followed her to the balcony overlooking the first floor. Once again, she didn’t look worried, and he hoped that was a good sign.

“I was able to track his magic signature,” She began. “It spiked two hours ago, which fits the timeline you reported. Considering his regular stats and his small build, everything points to a normal case of magical exhaustion. He just overwhelmed himself.” She paused. “Usually magical exhaustion only causes weakness or vertigo, maybe in extreme situations loss of consciousness, but not for this long. The hit to his head, however, is severe enough to have caused a concussion. I’d need to test his reaction time and responses once awake to be certain, but with with the bruises it left, that’s what I think it would be.”

Honestly, it was relieving to hear normal, treatable terms being tossed around, but it didn’t explain why Sans was still not awake yet. 

Dr. Cottontail seemed to sense this. “I imagine he’ll be up in an hour or so. I’m sure his body is using this time to recoup after all the magic spent. Call me if he wakes for more than thirty minutes, and in the meantime restrict any strenuous activity. Absolutely no magic. Preferably have him stay in bed, and only feed him liquids.”

Grillby took mental note of the instructions, fairly easy and straightforward. Of course, he’d probably find some way to muck it up. That was really all he was good for, right?

“He’s going to be fine, Grillby,” She assured. “Kids push their physical limits all the time; it's how they learn. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He tried not to wince. She had no idea what she was talking about.

After packing up her equipment, Dr. Cottontail left, not before reiterating that Grillby call her when Sans wakes and once again offering to treat his face, which he politely refused. He stood by the door for a minute after he closed it behind her, trying not to let the fact that he was now alone here overwhelm him. The future was unknown, but undoubtedly dim. There was really little he could do but prepare for the inevitable. He dragged his feet up to the boys’ room, pausing when he saw Sans again. No change at all. He still was as weak and empty looking as he was when he was placed in the bed. His permanent smile was more ironic than it had ever been.

Grillby took a deep breath. He had some work to get done before the boy woke.

 

* * *

 

Grillby jolted awake, disoriented. Honestly, he hardly remembered nodding off - apparently just the act of sitting in the chair had made him pass out. It took awhile for him to recognize his surroundings. He was still in the boys’ room, sitting on a chair in the corner. Through the window he could see the dim light of dusk, meaning some time had passed. And Sans…

Sans was awake too.

Grillby resisted the urge to jump up and make sure he was okay, even though every instinct in him was screaming to do so. He needed to respect the boy’s boundaries. If Sans got spooked and to tried to teleport again in his condition...Grillby didn’t even want to think about it. Instead, he sat there, attentive, anxiously awaiting whatever would happen next.

Sans had sat himself up in bed, awake and aware for who knows how long. In his hand was his notebook, along with a strip of paper kept on top. Grillby had set both on the desk next to him before sitting himself down and passing out. He knew Sans probably wouldn’t talk to him willingly, and definitely wouldn’t react well if he tried to talk first. It had been his hope that this would help bridge that rift. Considering Sans’ attention was fixed on the paper, it looked like it was working.

“...what is this?” His voice was hoarse but it was hard to mistake the accusatory tone. He didn’t even look at Grillby, gaze locked on the note Grillby had written.

Two words in Wing Dings: ‘I’m sorry’.

So many responses ran through Grillby’s head, all of them seeming wrong in some way. He settled with the simplest. “...Papyrus taught me.”

Sans nearly dropped the book, eyes wide. “...p-pap...knows wing dings still…?”

Grillby nodded. “He...doesn’t seem to remember anything else though.”

He didn’t want to get the boy’s hopes up, however small they may be.

It was quiet for a minute, Sans processing all the information. He still refused to look at Grillby, like the very act would cause him to explode. Grillby didn’t know if this was a good thing or a bad thing. It hurt to hardly be acknowledged, but he knew the pain would probably be worse if all the anger and hatred was staring him directly in the face. Could he even have pain worse than what he was self-inflicting on himself? He didn’t know. Honestly, he was starting to feel a bit numb.

“you...you could read it…” Sans said slowly, still piecing everything together. “but you took it away from me!?”

The energy in the air started feeling tense again, Sans’ hands shaking as he tightened his grip on his prized possession. He sounded so betrayed, so broken. And why shouldn’t he? Grillby had taken his trust and completely dashed it into pieces. 

Although he had actually learned Wing Dings after taking the notebook, clarifying the order of events wasn’t going to make this any better. Better? What even was ‘better’ in this situation? Normalcy was out of the question, and the onslaught of negative emotions from Sans, along with his current frailness and low HP...he was only a push away from falling down. 

Sharp pain coursed through the back of his head. Grillby tensed, not prepared for that on top of everything else. But of course. Why not have unrelated stress piled on? That was perfectly fine. More penance for his multitude of ever growing sins, he supposed. 

That’s when it struck him, so suddenly it almost felt like whiplash. He grabbed the arms of the chair to brace himself. It...It wasn’t unrelated, was it? It had never really been unrelated. Stars, he had been so stupid. He took a shaky breath, headache magnifying as he realized what he had to do. Sans was judging him on his actions. It was the boy’s right to hear the whole story.

“...I wasn’t much older than you when the war started on the surface. My mother and sister died, but I managed to make it to Mt. Ebott with her daughter. The humans sealed us in, forced us all to retreat to Home. Somehow in all the mass hysteria... my father found the two of us.”

He paused, pain spiking, but he knew he had to continue. He spared a quick glance at Sans. The boy was staring at him with a confused yet strikingly angry look. No interrupting or demanding him to stop though. And he was actually looking at him, that had to be a good sign, right? Grillby steadied himself then went on. 

“Only we and a few cousins were left; Fuku was the future of the fire elementals, he’d say, so we needed to protect her to keep our memory alive. It took little time for everyone to realize Home was too cramped for monsterkind, so we moved forward into the Underground. Snowdin seemed too cold but my father never wanted to enter Waterfall again. Especially not with Fuku so small and weak. The rest of the flames migrated to Hotland and we started life in Snowdin. We built the house, the restaurant...everyone took bets on how long we’d stay. He was always stubborn, though - if he said we weren’t leaving, we weren’t leaving. After a few centuries the bar became a Snowdin staple...almost like we had always been here.

“Fuku grew up and...well, you know Fuku. After begging for years he let her go to school in Hotland. Things were...different without her around. Neither of us were very talkative, and we just fell into a simple routine of work. Except then he started taking more days off, saying he needed to get things done in the house. I never...I should have noticed something but I was too stupid to even realize what was happening. How tired he looked. How he had been keeping himself strong for Fuku...but not for me…”

Grillby trailed off, realizing he was verbalizing things he had been feeling for nearly a year now but had never really said outloud. Never really put to words mentally either. Tremors started in his hands, breathing going funny again. It was a flood of emotions he had honestly held back for so long, now everything was bursting out at once. Regret. Anger. Guilt. There was something sort of cathartic about just setting everything out instead of bottling it in.

Maybe this was why Fuku had said he should talk these things through. 

“I...I came home one day to the dust on the floor. He had fallen...fallen down...and with how old he was...the doctors said it was quick and painless. But I should have known. I could have...could have helped. I didn’t realize how much was weighing on him and if he had just...shared some with me, if I had just done something...maybe he wouldn’t…” He sighed out a long breath. “It’s haunted me. To this day my inaction has followed me like...like a shadow. And then you came...you two became my new responsibility...but everyone around me...all the evidence said that you had been abused.”

Sans, who had been attentive up until this point, suddenly went still, eyelights threatening to go out as his body stiffened. It was obvious he had no idea about the Guard’s hypothesis until now.

“The journal was keeping you from healing, they said. You would find out the truth and with your HP you might fall...or you might continue your…‘delusions’ and return to your abuser. And I had to keep you safe. I couldn’t...I couldn’t ignore signs like last time and let you hurt yourself. I couldn’t live with that again. So I took their advice. It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made in my life. 

“After reading everything and doing some research I found that there was more to your story than they realized. That maybe...Dr. W. D. Gaster did exist like you said. I’ve seen things. Things that I can’t explain without that possibility being fact. And I just...knew. I know what it's like to lose a father and what I would do to save him if I could. I could see that in you. I decided to give the notebook back but by then it was gone.”

There was so much more he could say. So much more he probably should say. But already he could feel his voice failing him, raw from that considerable overuse. He hadn’t talked that much in years it felt. His piece was said, his body relaxing a bit with some of the stress lifted. He had been holding on to these feelings for so long, it was such a release to just let some of them go. They were still there, for sure, but weren’t as intense or overwhelming.

He almost didn’t even notice his headache was gone.

They just sat there for a moment, Grillby waiting for any sort of response from the boy. Sans didn’t even move, staring off into middle space. After a minute or two of silence he raised his head a bit, his grin looking a little strained, almost like a grimace. 

“...i don’t care about your excuses or your sob story.”

Grillby flinched, not expecting this extreme of a reaction. 

“do you think i’m stupid? you’re just trying to make me forgive you and then what? we can go back to how it was? play pretend family again and act like everything is okay? i know what you’re doing,  _ grillby _ ! i’m not going to fall for it again! especially after…” He stopped, eyes wavering as tears welled up in his sockets. “after i...i even…”

He couldn’t go on, all of his energy focused on not breaking down right then and there. He trembled slightly as unfinished sobs rippled through his body. He was trying to look tough, but Grillby could easily see through it. See the scared, angry child who had all of his trust broken by an adult who had promised to do what was best for him. An adult who was now looking like he was trying to defend his actions. That wasn’t what Grillby had intended at all.

“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” Grillby corrected. Sans blinked, almost like he didn’t believe what he was hearing. “I don’t even think I could forgive myself...I don’t deserve it. I know it's not going to be the same as it was...but that doesn’t matter. I just want you safe and happy. And that means helping you find your dad...like I promised.”

Sans stared at him incredulously, the tears now falling silently. “...you're...going to help me?”

“...if you’ll let me,” he admitted. He wasn’t going to force Sans to do this by any means. He doubted he could force the boy to do anything anymore, anyways. 

“i don’t...i don’t really have a choice…” Sans said hesitantly, slumping back against the pillow. 

Grillby wasn’t really sure what he meant, but he wasn’t going to press the child. It was an agreement, even if it was somewhat reluctant. It made him feel a little better. He could help fix the mess he had made. Maybe they would even be able to solve the mystery of what happened to Dr. Gaster. After all that he had done, nothing would feel better than being able to prove that Sans was right all this time. 

Yet, amid all this, a new sort of pain started in Grillby’s soul, a revelation that he honestly had been ignoring until now. Things would be different. Somewhere deep inside he had sort have hoped that maybe they could just continue where they left off, but he had known. He had broken something deep and personal. It wasn’t something easily repaired. But hearing Sans’ blatant animosity, the pointed way he made sure to say ‘Grillby’, it only made the conclusion clear and unmistakable.

Sans wasn’t his son anymore.


	16. Ghetti-ng Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another day in Snowdin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I feel like every note is me apologizing but I'm so sorry this is like a week late and I have no idea when the next update will be. My life is a real mess right now kinda in a good way, but mostly in a stress way. Lots of freelance work so that's awesome but my day job is becoming very overbearing and its hard to balance the both. These last few chapters have been hard to write too with their themes and just...general not happiness surrounding them haha. Don't worry, I'll get better at it, but it just kinda sucking the life out of me sometimes.  
> Thank you again for sticking through - like this almost has 400 kudos and so many nice and life-giving comments? I don't feel worthy, especially when chapters like these kinda suck hard (I sound like Grillby a lot and will be the first to admit that his anxious tendencies and self deprecation is very much based off of myself...so sorry haha. I know I'm better than this but I know I can also DO better than this so its hard).  
> Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

“stop looking at me like that.”

Grillby nearly jumped off of the bed. “What?”

“like i’m about to fall apart. like the way you’re looking at me right now,” Sans said slowly, annoyance clear. “i told you, i’m fine.”

Much easier said than done. Everytime he so much as glanced at the boy he could see him lying prone in his bed, eyes empty, struggling to even breathe. It had been days since then and Sans had recovered more than excellently, cracks healing and stamina replenishing, but those images were not simply forgotten. 

After further tests, Dr. Cottontail had determined nothing else wrong with him, prescribing a week’s worth of rest and plenty of magic-enriched food. It took some gentle prodding, but Sans revealed that he used to take some sort of supplementary medication for his magic when he was younger and that he knew usually not to overdo it, but he hadn’t been thinking straight. The doctor seemed curious about the mention of medicine but later told Grillby it was most likely a vitamin used to raise low magic levels. They were common in children who weren’t developing at a normal rate, but extended use could cause their magic to overload a lot quicker. 

As long as Sans kept his magic to a safe amount he would be fine, and he was strictly forbidden to use it during his bedrest period. Sans obviously didn’t mind much being stuck in bed for a week; in fact, if it was under different circumstances he would probably be living it up, find some way to get his doctor-approved laziness period extended. Instead he was spending his time researching mostly. Grillby had been sent to the Librarby countless times to retrieve all sorts of obscure books on all types of advanced subjects. It honestly was the most interaction Sans allowed them to have, outside of bringing food to his room.

Until today, that was.

“so what did they say?” Sans asked, refocusing them on the goal at hand.

Today out of the blue when Grillby had brought up lunch, Sans had informed him that they were going to discuss Grillby’s research into Dr. Gaster. It had taken him off guard, with how little Sans had wanted to do with him up till now. It was entirely pragmatic so far, but Grillby was honestly relieved that they could still be in the same room together for more than five minutes. It was a start, at least.

Grillby had begun with his conclusions about the absence of a royal scientist and his foray into Wing Dings and fonts, which didn’t seem to impress Sans much. In fact, he appeared all but frustrated until Grillby got to the encounters in Waterfall. He heeded more attention, writing down key details and asking a multitude of follow up questions. He looked downright excited as he got more information, and Grillby was more than willing to do anything he could to have Sans react that positively. 

“They talked about a world where everything was the same but they didn’t exist, and then they asked who built the core,” Grillby explained. 

Sans nodded, pen quickly recording the story.

“I asked if it was Dr. Gaster and they told me it was rude to talk about someone who was listening.”

“was someone there!?” Sans asked, eyes wide. 

“...I don’t know...I didn’t look,” Grillby admitted. “I couldn’t really, it took enough effort just to stay there.”

Sans looked disappointed but nodded all the same, telling him to continue.

“I told them you remembered Gaster and when I tried to ask them about him they told me to forget about them and...and then they disappeared.” 

“like they dissolved?” Sans asked.

“Like...they were just gone and it felt like they had never been there at all,” Grillby clarified, shivering a bit at the memory.

Sans looked over everything he had written, then let his gaze drift over to Grillby’s lap. “you done with that?”

Oh, right. Grillby had almost forgot about his second task: he was supposed to draw the monster child and the door he had seen in Waterfall. He had sketched out something earlier and while there was definitely room for improvement this was probably going to be the best they were going to get. How was one able to accurately depict those hollow eyes, the otherworldly expression? They were things that were nearly impossible to describe.

Grillby passed the drawing over, which Sans looked over with a scrutinizing eye, then placed it a page behind the one he was currently writing on. It was obvious he didn’t think the art was very well done, but he was really one to talk. One of Sans’ drawings was on the desk by the bed - three figures, barely identifiable as skeletons, with the words ‘Don’t Forget’ written below. It was obviously a depiction of Sans’ ‘true’ family.

Stars, it still hurt so much. 

Sans analyzed everything he had written down, face scrunched up in concentration. After a few minutes he straightened and gasped. “the many worlds interpretation! of course!” 

Grillby stared at the boy dumbly, having no idea what he was blabbing about. 

“it’s a theory that there are alternate realities just like our own but a little different. dad dabbled in some research into it, something about timelines” Sans explained. “maybe...during the accident he was sent into a different timeline...or pushed out or something. and that’s why no one remembers him! it’s our reality trying to like...repair his absence...or something.”

Sans was getting excited again, grabbing a piece of paper and scrawling down more books to get. Grillby didn’t want to stop this fervor, but he had some doubts - namely revolving around why Sans was the only one who seemed to remember. And even if Dr. Gaster was in another reality, how would they get him back? Half of what Sans was saying was going over his head, so maybe these were all silly concerns that Sans already had the answers to. Grillby didn’t have the science smarts to help him in that way, but he could keep providing him what he needed and being moral support.

“i’ll need to read up on the different schools of thought...and maybe we should go back to waterfall. see if we can find anymore evidence there,” Sans said.

“Or we could just go to Hotland and investigate his lab,” Grillby offered.

Sans froze, then turned to Grillby with wide eyes. “you’d... you’d take me to hotland?”

It was almost like he thought he wouldn’t be allowed to go there - and considering they had gone out of their way to avoid it until now, he couldn’t really blame him. 

Grillby nodded. “Not until Gyftmas break, though.”

Sans would probably spend days there, and that was really the only time their schedules would allow it. 

“...or i could just drop out of school…” Sans mumbled.

Grillby was about to gently let him know what a horrible idea that was when there was a knock on the bedroom door. Before they could even give permission it flung open, revealing Papyrus.

“oh, hey bro. how was school?” Sans asked, grin widening. It always tended to do that when his brother was around.

“GOOD. EVERYONE IS STILL WORRIED ABOUT YOU,” Papyrus informed. “THEY WOULD HAVE GIVEN ME YOUR HOMEWORK BUT APPARENTLY YOU’VE DONE EVERYTHING THEY’VE ASSIGNED ALREADY.” He paused, eyeing the two of them on the bed curiously. “DID YOU TWO HAVE FUN TODAY?”

It was a simple question, but Grillby knew it meant so much more to Papyrus right now. The fight and Sans’ collapse had really done a number on the boy emotionally. It took a whole day for them to coax a word out of him, going through all of his daily routine mechanically and occasionally needing some time under his blanket. Grillby was so concerned about it that he almost called Dr. Blathers, when finally Papyrus quietly asked if he could sleep in Grillby’s bed again. He’d spent every night in there since, and had improved a lot, but his anxiety was still very clear. He would flinch and go nonverbal if he heard anything resembling a disagreement and he seemed especially clingy of both Sans and Grillby.

This innocent question wasn’t just asking if they had fun. It was asking if they had gotten along, if perhaps the two of them were acting like a family again instead of...whatever they were now. Grillby could see the hope shining in his eyes. He wanted it so desperately, wanted them all to be like it was before. 

They were going to be nothing but a disappointment to him. 

“oh, yeah. loads of fun,” Sans replied with a shrug.

Papyrus didn’t seem too convinced, squinting his sockets.

“a skele-ton,” Sans added cheekily.

“UGH! SANS!” Papyrus berated with a groan. 

Another knock to the door redirected all their attention. Fuku was standing in the doorway, one hand on her hip. 

“Pap, I thought you said you were going to help me, buddy,” she reminded, faking exasperation.

Fuku had honestly been the best godsend Grillby could ask for in all this. She had shown up unannounced, as per usual, the day after Grillby finally had the fortitude to call her and explain the situation. Now she stayed at the house while Grillby ran the bar. As much as he wanted to stay home every waking moment to make sure everyone was okay, going to work let him think about something else for awhile. When they were all together she brightened the mood, able to distract them all with games and silly stories, creating a sense of joy that the rest of them seemed to have forgotten. 

“OH, RIGHT! DINNER!” Papyrus cried, eyes widening. “I’LL BE RIGHT BACK!” 

He ran over quickly and hugged Sans and Grillby separately, then rushed out the door. It was another new quirk of his, making sure to squeeze them tightly whenever he was about to leave their sight, almost like he was afraid something was going to happen when he left.

Fuku shook her head, smiling with her eyes. “Food should be done in a few. I’m sure you’ll know when it's ready.”

She left the two of them alone to silence. Grillby wondered if he should try and continue where they left off. Sans seemed to be responding well, actually showing interest, willingness to work with Grillby. Even just being around him. After days of his presence barely being tolerated, this was a very welcome change. 

“i don’t understand.”

Grillby turned to Sans, not sure what he was talking about. The boy’s face was scrunched up, like he was deeply distressed about something. He looked up, his pained expression piercing Grillby’s soul.

“how can he still love you?”

It took so little to smash Grillby’s already busted heart to pieces. He took a shaky breath and turned away, not wanting Sans to see how much it was tearing him apart. Not only had he blatantly made it clear that Grillby wasn’t deserving of either brother’s love, he cared so little for him that he was willing to say it to his face. 

The boy was right though. Absolutely right.

Papyrus was a bright kid - he had to know that Grillby had been the one that took the notebook, and if he hadn’t figured it out himself Sans surely told him. He knew, yet Papyrus didn’t treat him with disdain. In fact, he was almost more affectionate, more dependant than before. No matter what, Papyrus only saw the good in him. Grillby was pretty sure the boy extended that courtesy to everyone he met.

No one deserved Papyrus. 

The two of them just sat there for who know how long - could have been a few minutes, could have been an hour. Sans had nothing further to say and Grillby was neither willing nor able to defend himself. It was a stalemate Grillby was all too familiar with at this point, and he felt stupid for even entertaining the thought that their relationship could start to mend this quickly. He had done far too much damage for that.

“DINNER TIME!” 

Grillby got to his feet, ready to go get some food ready to bring back up to Sans. One look at the boy’s expression, though, and he knew that wasn’t going to happen. 

“i’m going downstairs.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a fact. This was going to happen, whether Grillby was okay with it or not. While he would prefer Sans stay in bed he was most likely well enough for a little physical activity. And pushing back over something like this would only turn ugly fast.

He barely had time to come to this conclusions before Sans was already pushing himself off the bed. Putting weight on his legs so quickly probably wasn’t the best idea. His knees buckled almost immediately as he touched the floor. Grillby couldn’t stop himself. He could see the boy losing his balance, and then he would fall, and they he would crack his skull again, and then he would start to dust, and - 

Grillby reached out to steady the child, to keep him from getting hurt. He could barely register the skeletal limb that shot up and smacked him away.

“i  c a n  d o  i t  m y s e l f .”

Grillby flinched back as Sans got his bearings, using the edge of the bed for support. The hit itself hadn’t really hurt, wasn’t even close to knicking off any HP, but something about it lingered, reverberating through Grillby’s arm in painful bursts. It dawned on him that this was the first time Sans had touched him since he woke up.

To push him away.

The boy’s eyes went wide and he realized what he had just done. He almost looked guilty or...scared? Was Sans scared of him? As quickly as the expression came it left, replaced with a strained grin and a furrowed brow. 

Grillby kept his distance as Sans shakily made his way out of the room and down the stairs, keeping a firm hand on the walls or the railing the whole time through. The elemental was on edge through the entire process, ready to step in if needed, but anytime he felt the need to start to grab the boy...the smacking senesation returned to his hand. Sans didn’t want his help. He shouldn’t try to force it.

Papyrus was setting the table, turning around when he heard steps down the stairs. Immediately he broke out into a big smile. “SANS! YOU’RE WALKING!”

“as best i can,” Sans chuckled, smiling as if nothing had happened between Papyrus leaving the room and them coming downstairs. He hobbled over to his seat, almost throwing himself onto it. Grillby could see that he was already considerably out of breath, sweat starting to run down his skull. Just walking down the stars had winded him that much. If he was feeling any other physical ailments, though, he didn’t show it.

“so what’s on the menu?” He asked, casually leaning his chin on his palm like it wasn’t the only thing keeping him up right now.

“SPAGHETTI!” Papyrus announced, walking back over to prepare plates.

“Papyrus...insisted on being the chef tonight,” Fuku explained hesitantly, cringing slightly.

Huh. That was a weird reaction.

“YEAH! JUST LIKE DAD!” Papyrus explained.

Any pride Grillby felt disappeared when he caught Sans tensing at his brother’s words. It was nearly imperceptible, his features unconsciously stiffening as he tried to cover it up, but Grillby knew. Subtle body language never got past him.

A steaming plate was set in front of him, snapping him to attention. A strong smell wafted over and suddenly all of Fuku’s hesitation earlier made perfect sense. What was before him would not normally be described as ‘spaghetti’. The noodles had been reduced to an overcooked mush, the sauce was brown and crusty. Grillby swore he could see a whole onion wading in the thick of it. 

Papyrus had helped him cook plenty of times in the past, mostly relegated to prep work and always under Grillby’s careful guidance. This looked vastly different than anything they had collaborated on before. He wondered if Papyrus had also insisted on doing it all by himself this time.

There was an awkward silence broken only by forks clanging against plates as everyone clumsily tried to get a portion to sample. Papyrus bounced up and down in his seat, eager for feedback. He was noticeably without a plate, but that didn’t surprise Grillby. The boy’s appetite had all but disappeared the last few days. They always managed to get him to eat something before going to bed at least. He was a little too wired now to settle down and eat anyways.

Grillby brought the bite towards his mouth, bracing himself for whatever would come next. 

The taste was...indescribable.

Papyrus looked around at everyone anxiously waiting as they chewed in relative silence, struggling to control their countenance.

Finally Sans swallowed. “wow, pap. i’ve never had anything like that before.”

“Very unique and...flavorful!” Fuku added.

Well, at least they were honest.

Papyrus turned to Grillby, not satisfied until hearing his opinion. Of course. Grillby was the ‘chef’ after all, with all the gravitas that came with slinging burgers almost every day.

“I’m proud of you, Papyrus,” He said.

It was true. It would never stop being true.

Papyrus beamed from ear to figurative ear, while everyone else came to terms with the fact that they were going to have to finish what was on their plates. It was a long and arduous task, but eventually every last bite was consumed. The leftovers were put in containers and most likely would be ‘eaten’ tomorrow while Papyrus was at school.

The rest of the evening was relaxing, spent mostly playing the mouse puzzle game and watching TV. Fuku was able to get Papyrus to eat half a bowl of oatmeal, mostly by making eating a prerequisite step to solving some of the puzzles she devised - quite clever, Grillby thought. All the while Sans lounged on the couch, punning it up and making even Fuku groan at their quality. It was weird, being together and acting civil, especially after the small confrontation upstairs, but it was for a good cause: obviously neither he nor Sans wanted to upset Papyrus in any way. 

Finally it was time for bed, and Papyrus didn’t even put up a fight as they all walked upstairs. Honestly, that new quirk of his bothered Grillby the most. Out of the corner of his vision he saw Sans stalling at his doorway, looking over at Papyrus. Waiting for him to come back, like it was before. Instead, Papyrus headed into Grillby’s room without any hesitation, hardly even noticing his brother’s stare. The older brother stiffened, then shuffled into his room, letting the door close behind him. Fuku glanced Grillby’s way and then over to the door, telling him that she would check up on Sans. He nodded, following after Papyrus. The boy was already snuggled under the covers, Mighty Man in one hand and the Fluffy Bunny book in the other. 

Everything went normally, Grillby reading through the book, Papyrus falling asleep towards the end. He watched the boy as he slumbered, looking so peaceful and unaffected by all the strife happening around him. This was how it should always be. Grillby was going to work his hardest to make sure that would happen; if that meant continuing to give Sans space, then that’s what he had to do.

A green glow indicated Fuku entering the room, and he turned. She looked paler than usual, eyes wavering. Grillby stood up, worried at her expression, only to have her gesture downstairs. They walked down in silence, the stress of what could possibly be wrong constricting around him. Was it something to do with Sans? Was he showing signs of magical exhaustion again, or perhaps had he done something to her to make her upset? Grillby knew Sans’ feelings toward him were now less than friendly, but he hadn’t seemed to treat Fuku any differently. She was an innocent party in the whole ordeal after all, relation to Grillby aside.

She sat down on the couch and he followed suite, unsure if he really wanted to hear what she had to say or not.

“...Sans…” She took a deep breath. “Sans told me you talked to him about...about Pops the other day…”

Oh.

With everything going on Grillby had forgotten about his confession, revealing his past. It had been a powerful moment but ultimately it had only led to more frustration from Sans. Since then Grillby had been so focused on the boy that he hadn’t even considered what he had changed about himself, like how the headaches were becoming less frequent, like how it was easier to think about younger days without his body feeling like it was going to shut down on him. Did it still hurt? Yes. Oh, stars, yes. In a way that he felt probably would never fully leave his life. But it was different. It wasn’t debilitating. It was a reminder more so than a dark pit.

His father wasn’t going to be forgotten, and his memory wasn’t going to cripple him either.

He nodded slowly, somewhat ashamed. He knew how important this was to Fuku. How she had been pushing for this for nearly a year now. If he had been more thoughtful he would have let her known sooner - heck, he could have even talked to her about it first instead of letting out his burdens on a child who had nearly died. But he had been stubborn. Stubborn and in so much pain and it took a small skeleton to realize that most of that pressure was self-inflicted. 

Fuku just stared at him, unblinking, then immediately wrapped her arms around him, pushing her face into his shoulder. “T-That...that took you long enough, you dork...I was so scared…and...” She laughed weakly, tightening her hold on him. He could feel his shirt starting to grow damp with magical tears. “...stars, I-I miss him so much…”

The rest of the night was spent sharing stories, sobbing, and a sense of peace that neither of them had felt in a long time. The dust on the mantle seasoned the fireplace until there was none left - he didn’t need it in the jar anymore. They both knew exactly what was most important to his father, what he had spent so much time trying to build up.

Now they just needed to do what they could to be the people he knew they would be.


	17. The Great Papyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby goes to the principal's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll stop apologizing one day for being late but today is not that day. You guys just keep being so supportive it really means so much. Really, all the reviews make me smile and just...knowing you guys enjoy it. Thank you  
> So Im doing pretty well on my freelance work so Im quitting my job at Best Buy - last day is in two weeks! What this means for this story is that I won't get to write at work on those tiny post it notes anymore. If I keep up on my freelance and working on my portfolio I still should be able to put time into the story. It might be a tad slower though? We're nearing the end, though, only six or seven chapters left, and I'm really excited to see it all come together!  
> If any of you are interested in supporting me through this whole no stable job thing, I do have a patreon and ko-fi set up (both /KaylaMitchell) but feel absolutely no pressure or obligation. I honestly think I'll be okay for a few months and your guys' support just through AO3 is more than enough to keep me writing. I want to keep making something worth it for you!  
> speaking of that, i feel like this chapter kinda goes all quick at the end. Sorrrry. 
> 
> Also this fic has inspired another one! Its in the Underswap universe and its really cute so far, go give it and its author some love! https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12665165/1/Skeletons-Snow-and-Sneaky-Devils

Life just seemed determined to never give Grillby a break.

Ever since the boys started school he knew that, one day, he would inevitably get a call from the administration about them. However, months had passed by now and since Sans and Papyrus seemed adjusted to school life, Grillby had grown complacent, forgetting those fears. 

Only for them to come crashing back today when the phone rang at the bar.

An ‘incident’, that’s how the principal put it, involving both boys. No details beyond that, though she made sure to note that there were no serious injuries.

No serious injuries.

Not ‘no injuries’.

It was fortunate that the Dogi were at the restaurant for lunch. They immediately picked up on Grillby’s distress as he stood there motionless, piecing together what he had just been told and what he needed to do next. The couple helped him close down early and did what they could to assure him that everything was probably alright. He grabbed some monster candy on the way out anyways, just in case.

Grillby wasn’t sure how he got to the school, but the next moment he was aware was in front of the doors. They burst open as he looked around, desperate to find the principal’s office. Instead, his attention was drawn to three figures huddled in the hallway: Mrs. Snowdrake, soothing her son, who was sobbing uncontrollably into her chest. Next to them sat the cousin, whose damp feathers suggested recent tears as well. 

That wasn’t nearly as worrisome as the bandage peaking out under his sunglasses, or the makeshift sling now supporting his wing.

Grillby swallowed, hoping to keep the nausea down.

As he rushed into the principal’s office, he almost missed Mrs. Snowdrake looking up and glaring at him as he passed. Fortunately he didn’t have the time to confront her and whatever animosity she was now harboring against him. 

The principal, a stout plant monster, was waiting, seated calmly at her desk - too calmly, Grillby thought, all things considered. The room around him reeked of propriety and order, every item in a very specific spot. Papyrus would probably love it.

Except he wasn’t here. Neither was Sans.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Grillby,” The principal instructed.

He didn’t even move from the doorway. Couldn’t move. Not when his boys weren’t there. Why weren’t they there!?

She read him like an open book. “The nurse is still looking at them, but they were fine when I saw them. Just a few scratches.”

Grillby wondered what a ‘few scratches’ meant to someone who didn’t consider a broken arm a ‘serious injury’. It took a lot of focus to not worry about all the possible conditions the two could be in.

“Please, sit,” She implored, a bit more forcefully this time. He could tell by her gaze that she understood his concern, she just didn’t share it.

Being stubborn would only make this take longer, make him wait longer before he could check on the children, so he begrudgingly took a seat across from the desk. The chair squeaked along the clean floor as he leaned his weight onto it. 

“I know we discussed this briefly over the phone, but to recap: there has been an incident,” She began. “Everyone is telling a different story so we don’t know how it started, but...we do know that it ended with your son, Sans, attacking two other students.”

Grillby winced. As much as he’d like to believe that there was some sort of mix up, that Sans wasn’t involved in this at all, he knew better. By now he was all too familiar with how violent the boy could be if pushed too much. Painfully so. If he really was driven to attack someone though, he had to have a good reason. He knew he wouldn't expel any energy if he wasn’t properly motivated.

“We have a very strict policy here on offensive magic use. Normally we would suspend the offender...but we’re willing to make an exception this time,” She explained. “A warning and two weeks of detention. We’ll also start counseling if he shows anymore violent tendencies - but I have faith that that won’t be necessary.”

Grillby nodded, grateful for the leniency, although he knew Sans would probably prefer getting kicked out. He’d asked multiple times now if he could quit school and - well now, honestly, Grillby wouldn’t be surprised if getting suspended had been his goal this whole time. He was about to be disappointed then. 

“We all understand that Sans and his brother have come from...troubled pasts. We’ll always do our best to accommodate their special needs,” The principal assured.

Oh. That explained the lesser punishment. They were still under the assumption that the boys had been abused and felt bad for them. Grillby wasn’t going to correct her, especially when he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure it wasn’t true. Just because Dr. Gaster existed didn’t mean he hadn’t been abusive. Grillby still had no explanation for Sans’ abysmal stats, why they had seemed unfamiliar with the concept of school and playing with other kids their age. And yet he trusted his story. He trusted in Sans.

The principal thanked him for coming in and gave him permission to leave, letting him know where the infirmary was. Grillby didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted to the door, barely able to control his pace to a brisk walk. This time no one was in the hallway to distract him as he went along. Good, that would have likely ended in disaster anyways. When he reached his destination he stopped, taking in a deep breath, before throwing the door open. He knew he wasn’t prepared for whatever was on the other side, but he doubted he would ever be.

The infirmary came into view, and Grillby realized just how not prepared he really was.

There wasn’t a nurse in sight but, thank the stars above, his boys were, still dressed in their outdoor gear and seated on two cots next to each other. At first glance they didn’t seem to have any physical injuries, or at least nothing to the extent the child in the hallway had. Grillby would have felt relieved if their mental states weren’t so obvious.

Sans looked dead on his feet, body covered in a layer of sweat, struggling to keep himself upright. On the other hand, Papyrus was as still as a statue, staring off at nothing while he clung onto something in both gloved hands. As Grillby neared, he could see clearly what it was, and his stomach dropped: the tattered remnants of the boy’s blanket.

No, Grillby hadn’t been prepared for this at all.

The initial shock wore off quickly, replaced with a parental instinct he couldn’t ignore. The brothers needed to recuperate, and this was by far not the suitable environment for that. 

He approached the cots, earning a delayed reaction from Sans. The young skeleton looked up at him with dull eyelights and a genuine smile, almost like he was actually happy to see him. “...oh...hi grillbz…watcha doin’...here…?”

There was no question; Sans was incredibly out of it. Grillby felt himself tense. Barely a few weeks had passed since Sans recovered from his previous bout of magical exhaustion, and yet now he was dangerously close again. At least Grillby was better equipped to deal with it this time.

“...’snot like...we’re doin’ a fire drill today…” the boy slurred, laughing weakly at his own pun. The chuckles died slowly as his sockets threatened to close. 

Grillby quickly grabbed his shoulders, snapping his fingers in front of the child’s eyes. “Stay with me.”

He felt a small relief as Sans’ pupils focused ever so slightly. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the monster candy and was able to get Sans to eat it. Hopefully the magic within would help restore his depleted levels.

Once he was sure Sans wasn’t going to nod off again, he moved on to Papyrus. The younger brother hadn’t moved since Grillby got there, aside from his fingers twitching almost imperceptibly. This was going to be a much harder issue to tackle, one too delicate to do here.

“Papyrus,” Grillby said softly. “I’m going to pick you up and take you home, okay?”

Nothing.

Grillby did his best not to let his anxiety rise. Papyrus had gone nonverbal and reclusive several times before, especially in the last month. Even then, though, he always made sure to communicate something, even if it was just that he wanted to be left alone for awhile. This was worse, much worse, and he knew Papyrus’ heart - this was definitely something out of the child’s control. Papyrus hated worrying other people. He’d always come back from a nonverbal period and make sure he hadn’t made Grillby or Sans sad.

But they couldn’t stay here. He needed the familiar safety of home to help Papyrus.

Grillby cautiously reached forward and touched Papyrus’ arm. Again, nothing. But it wasn’t any sign of discomfort, at least. Taking this as a go ahead, he gently picked the boy up, cradling him. Still no response, not even a lean or an attempt to latching on for support. Papyrus simply let himself be held, having no sense of agency at all. 

They needed to get home quick.

He turned to Sans, ready to ask the boy if he would be able to walk, only to stop in surprise. The child had his arms up expectantly, ready to be hoisted up, loopy grin still on his face. 

Grillby hesitated. “...why don’t you get on my back instead.”

Sans nodded, clambering up his back clumsily, wrapping his arms around his neck. It took only a few moments before he started to press himself against the elemental, hold relaxing. Of course. Warmth wasn’t exactly the best thing when you were battling sleep. Grillby couldn’t have him passing out now, though. Not in this condition.

Grillby started walking out of the school, not bothering to let anyone know that he was taking them, when he had an idea. “...Sans, why don’t you tell me a joke?”

Sans stirred a bit. “...uh...heh...ok. what do...do you call a parking space with...more than one octopus?”

“I don’t know. What?”

“an octopied area.”

Wow.

That was bad.

The jokes continued as they walked home, all of varying quality. Sometimes Sans got himself in a giggle fit and was unable to even finish the set ups. By the end of it there was the punchline ‘you can’t have your kayak and heat it too’, which was at least a fairly clever wordplay. Grillby was much more concerned with keeping him talking, keeping him awake, and this seemed to be doing the trick. 

As they neared the house the boy went quiet, and at first Grillby feared he had drifted off, only to feel Sans’ bones stiffen. It was like he was finally aware of what he was doing, whose back he was one, who he was joking with. Grillby sighed inwardly, used to this treatment. It still hurt, but it also proved that Sans was less drowsy than before, and that’s all that mattered. He could bear it if Sans was going to be okay.

When they got home Sans quickly jumped down onto the floor, wobbily getting his bearings. He still looked very tired, but considerably less than he had before. He turned his head, unwilling to make eye contact with Grillby.

“...thanks,” he mumbled.

Well, that was an improvement.

Grillby grabbed another piece of monster candy, which Sans ate with no resistance. It was quiet, Grillby walking over and seating himself and Papyrus onto the couch. 

“...i, uh...overdid it again, huh?” Sans said, laughing lightly.

That was sure one way to put it.

“i...i usually take better care of myself. little bit of blue magic here. one shortcut there. maybe a few weak bone attacks if pap wants to practice. start to get out of breath, too sweaty, time to stop. take a nap to get back some energy....okay a lot of naps. dad had medicine if i worked myself too hard, but that didn’t happen much…” He rubbed his arm. “it’s been harder to control myself lately when i get...riled up. but i’m working on it. so don’t worry about me, ok?”

Grillby was shocked at the sudden openness - Sans hadn’t willingly talked about anything like this before, and Grillby struggled to find a reason for why he would decide to do it now. Still, this had to be a good sign right? A step in the right direction. If only Sans didn’t look so scared while he did it.

Grillby couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t worry, though. That seemed nigh impossible now.

Papyrus shifted on the couch, immediately gaining both Sans’ and Grillby’s attention, the former rushing over. 

“hey, pap. you ok, bro?”

Papyrus didn’t even acknowledge his brother, curling into a fetal position, keeping his gaze in the middle distance. At least it was some movement. At least it was something. 

Grillby looked over to Sans, whose sockets were crease in anxiety. “...what happened today?”

Sans tapped a finger on the couch, like he wasn’t sure where to start. He sighed. “...it was recess. i was just trying to catch some quick z’s, like i usually do. but then i heard pap across the way - hard to not hear him, y’know? something about how he didn’t like the game they were playing, and maybe they could try something else. i figured it wasn’t a big deal, he didn’t really sound upset, but i opened an eye anyways, just in case.” He paused, hands clenching into fists. “...just in time to see those two shove him to the ground. hard.”

Grillby took a breath, already feeling his anger burning inside of him. He looked at Papyrus, noticing scuff marks on his jacket that had escaped his notice before.

“they had his blanket - it musta snagged on a branch - and they started ripping it up and tossing the pieces everywhere. and they were  l a u g h i n g .” His eyelights had gone out, smile cold and menacing as he chuckled darkly. “they stopped laughing real quick.” 

Flames crackled and popped, but Grillby kept them under control as best he could. He couldn’t explode. At least not now. Maybe later when he was by himself. Preferably outside where he wouldn’t cause any unintended property damage.

It didn’t make any sense. How could anyone do something like this to a sweet boy,  _ his son _ , just because he was different from them? He just couldn’t understand it, no matter how many times he was brought face to face with the facts. Guilt crept up within. He had known. He had overheard the Snowdrake children and their animosity, although he had never dreamed it would escalate to this. It had been his intention to contact Mrs. Snowdrake but when everything happened with Sans it had slipped his mind, and Papyrus had never mentioned any trouble at school. Then this happened. Stars, he could have prevented this!

No. That wasn’t fair. There was no way of saying that if he had talked to Mrs. Snowdrake it would’ve stopped this from happening. But it might have.

“...i just wanted to scare ‘em off but...heh…” Sans straightened up, his eyelights returning. “i don’t care what you think. i don’t care what anyone thinks. i’d do it again. i’ll never let anyone hurt my brother. ever.”

From Grillby’s limited parenting knowledge, he knew he was supposed to berate Sans for this unnecessary violent behavior, but he couldn’t. Not when he had himself nearly burnt the school down just overhearing ill-will towards Papyrus.

“I’m proud of you.”

Sans froze, looking up at Grillby with wide, confused eyes.

“You did good protecting your brother,” Grillby explained. “But you need to make sure to take care of yourself too.”

Sans just stared at him for a moment, brow ridge furrowing intensely. “....i wasn’t looking for your approval.”

There it was. That familiar rejection. 

Grillby did everything he could not to let his hurt show. Steeling himself, he thought of ways to turn the conversation around to something more positive. “...you made them cry.”

That seemed to brighten Sans up. “i did?”

“Even the older one.”

“well that should teach them then.” He nodded a bit, seeming satisfied. Then he looked over at Papyrus again, that worried, helpless face returning. 

Grillby could understand the anxiety; Papyrus had never been off quite this badly before. By this point Grillby had hoped Papyrus would have come out of the mood naturally, as he normally did, but at this point there was no indication that that was going to happen anytime soon without some coaxing. It was impossible to tell what to do to help him and Grillby didn’t want to try something without thinking things through first so that he wouldn’t accidentally make it worse. Usually when the boy needed time alone he would go off next to a corner or piece of furniture and hide…

...under his blanket, which was currently still shredded in Papyrus’ fists. Even from the little Grillby could see of the pieces, he could tell there wasn’t enough fabric left to cover his head, much less drape over his whole body like he was accustomed to in these situations. Without this normal coping mechanism it was probably difficult for Papyrus to find a way to calm himself down. Knowing that specific soothing technique was gone forever probably wasn’t helping either. 

Grillby felt overwhelmed, old doubts resurfacing. He knew it. He knew he wouldn’t be able to help his children when they needed him most. All the warm feelings in the world meant nothing if you couldn’t solve a problem that was staring you right in the face, actively hurting your child. He lowered his head, unable to bear the sight anymore.

It was then that a new object came into his field of vision, something that had been left haphazardly on the floor.

He suddenly had an idea.

“Papyrus, can I see your blanket?” He asked gently. When Papyrus didn’t answer, he added, “I promise I will give it back.”

Nearly a minute passed, then the boy relaxed his grip on the scraps, holding them out. Grillby reached over slowly, trying not to startle the child as well as give him space in case he changed his mind. That didn’t happen, though, and Grillby was able to take the remains of the blanket with no qualms. Good. That was by far the trickiest part of his plan, and it seemed to be going well so far. Sans watched all this take place with a cautious eye.

Once he was sure Papyrus was still calm, Grillby inspected the strips of cloth in his hand. They were pitiful, really, not at all salvageable as a blanket. But for what Grillby had in mind, the larger piece was perfect. 

“Sans,” Grillby said, getting the older brother’s attention. He motioned over to the action figure lying on the ground. Sans looked confused, but grabbed the toy and shuffled over to the edge of the couch all the same.

“The Great Mighty Man is very brave, isn’t he, Papyrus?” Grillby asked, gesturing to the superhero Sans was holding. 

The boy’s pupils slowly came into focus, fixed onto his plastic figure. It took a moment, but then he nodded. The smallest nod Grillby had ever seen but still. A nod. Communication. Sans’ breath hitched at the sight, waiting anxiously for whatever would come next as he held the toy out. 

“It’s because he has a cape, right?” Grillby continued. 

Papyrus seemed to consider this, like it had never crossed his mind before. He nodded again, bigger this time.

“No,” Grillby corrected, causing both Papyrus and Sans to look at him. “Bravery is inside of you. If you are very brave you get to wear a cape. Like this one.” He displayed the larger piece of the blanket which was, for the most part, rectangular in shape. “Can I put it on you?”

Papyrus eyed the offering curiously, like he was seeing the torn blanket in a new light. A nod. Gingerly, Grillby took the ends of the fabric and tied it around Papyrus’ neck, keeping it loose so it wouldn’t feel too constricting. It was a little small, and definitely too ratty to be a proper cape, but it fit all the same.

There was Papyrus. Grillby’s little superhero.

“There we go,” Grillby nodded. “The Great Papyrus.”

Papyrus’ fingers went up to his collarbone, tracing over the folds in the cape’s knot. Eventually he leaned over against Grillby’s side, sighing. Reflexively, Grillby put an arm around the child, rubbing his shoulder. That seemed to help, Papyrus leaning further in.

“...AM I REALLY GREAT?”

His voice was quiet. Unsure. Un-Papyrus.

Stars, how could anyone make a child feel like this?

“of course, pap!” Sans assured, climbing onto the couch and wrapping his brother up in a giant hug. “the greatest!”

The three of them spent most of the afternoon just huddled on the couch, comforting each other, until Papyrus finally let everyone know that he was ready to eat dinner. At one point Grillby caught Sans looking his way, expecting to see resentment or jealousy. Instead, the boy’s eyes were filled with gratitude, wet with unshed tears. He nuzzled against his brother, holding onto him like nothing in the world could keep them apart.

The day had been long and burdened with troubles, but at least it ended on a happy note.

As long as they were with him, Papyrus would always know just how great he really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that most semi-canon depictions of Papyrus have him with a scarf (i.e. the plushie, etc) but the original sprite to me always looks like some torn up piece of cloth made to be a cape...so there you go!
> 
> Also the octopus joke was one I made when I wad like 10 and I'm so happy I could use it fot something


	18. Simple Math

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1+2 = ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha this took forever again. Sorry. I got caught up in doing freelance full time + finally watching My Hero Academia (which is funny since Mighty Man was always a reference to All Might, who I knew nothing about). But then I started watching Usagi Drop and it got me itching to finish the chapter. Its kinda Pacing What Pacing? and switches gears near the end, but I blame the fact that this wasn't in my original outline, but I added it for overall pacing and because, dangit, I missed my Papyrus and Grillby centric chapters haha.  
> Thank you so much again for all your support! 5000 hits? Aghhhh and over 450 kudos. That's still insane to me. Thanks

The spreadsheet on the table was an absolute mess. Rows upon rows of raw data, columns starting to run into each other. Nothing added up at all. Grillby usually took care when he kept track of the bar’s finances, but that business sense seemed to fall to the wayside when the boys came into the picture. Now he was left with jumbled digits and a budget that needed to be done by the end of the month. Unless, of course, he wanted to try and wing it, but his business sense hadn’t gone that badly. Yet.

“YOU WORK TOO MUCH.”

Papyrus was sitting on his lap, legs swinging back and forth. 

Grillby nearly snorted. “How so?”

“YOU MAKE 1.67 GOLD A MINUTE,” He replied matter of factly. “THAT’S A LOT. PETER HAS AN ALLOWANCE, BUT THAT’S ONLY 5 GOLD A WEEK!”

Grillby almost corrected him, letting him know that for a one-man operated restaurant he was honestly only doing about average, but he was too impressed by the child’s mental math. He wasn’t able to do the equations himself that quickly but he trusted Papyrus’ confidence.

“ALSO ALL OF THIS IS WRONG,” Papyrus informed, pointing at a section of the totals of the bottom of the page. 

That didn’t surprise Grillby one bit. “Do you think you could help me fix it?”

“OF COURSE!” He nodded. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS UP FOR A CHALLENGE!”

The boy had started referring to himself in the third person ever since the cape was put on (and not once taken off), as if emphasizing his new superhero status. At first Grillby was unsure about this new habit, worried that Papyrus might be taking his title a bit too far, bordering on narcissism. The more he thought about it, though, the more he didn’t mind it. Papyrus was a kid, being a kid, and considering he had been brought to the point of questioning his greatness just a few days ago Grillby was more than okay with constant reminders, even if they were coming from himself.

It took a couple of minutes for Papyrus to work through the numbers, treating the whole bookkeeping process like it was child’s play. Grillby just watched, amazed at the calculations running through his son’s head. Not even once did he write down any of his work, only using the pencil to record the answers when he was done. For someone his age this was beyond incredible. Heck, Grillby couldn’t even do that now.

Once finished, Grillby looked over everything, pleased to discover not only that the records now made sense, but also that he had a hundred more gold than he had previously thought.

“Good job, Papyrus.”

The child craned his neck back, beaming up at Grillby.

“Now since you helped me with my homework, I need to help you with yours,” Grillby announced.

Papyrus’ smile faltered, head lowering. “WE DON’T HAVE TO DO THAT NOW…”

When Papyrus had arrived home from school today he had a note for Grillby from his teachers. From now on Grillby needed to supervise the boy while he did his assignments to make sure he understood what he was supposed to do. Grillby didn’t really know what they meant but it didn’t hurt to try. Papyrus’ reluctance definitely indicated that something was off.

“If we get it done quick we can get started on dinner faster,” Grillby offered. “What do you want to make?”

“PANCAKES!” Papyrus exclaimed.

Grillby was starting to think Papyrus might just be a breakfast kind of person.

“Okay then, let’s start.” He reached over and put the worksheet from school in front of them, replacing the spreadsheet. There were only a handful of questions so he didn’t anticipate it taking too long. They would be off prepping pancakes in nothing flat.

All the questions seemed like fairly simple word problems too. Good. That meant Grillby would actually understand it. He had no idea if he would ever be able to help Sans with his school work like this, considering his own education had been cut short. Thankfully he doubted Sans would ever need that kind of assistance; last time he checked the boy was ahead of his homework schedule by a few weeks.  

“Alright, let’s start with this one,” Grillby said, looking over the first question. “‘Herschel has six crabapples. He gives two to Luke and one to Sissel. How many does he had leftover?”

Papyrus didn’t give much thought to the problem, answering confidently within seconds. “NONE.”

Grillby nearly did a double take. “...why?”

“HERSCHEL WASN’T HUNGRY BUT HE SAW HIS OTHER FRIEND NICK WAS SO HE GAVE THE REST TO HIM,” Papyrus explained as if it were common sense.

Okay. Now Grillby could see why the teachers needed his help.

“So how many does Nick have then?” He prompted, trying to get him back on track.

“TWO!”

Grillby held in a sigh, catching onto Papyrus’ logic. “...who did Nick give his to?”

“MAYA! SHE DIDN’T HAVE LUNCH,” Papyrus informed.

“That was very nice of Nick.”

“NICK IS VERY NICE,” Papyrus agreed.

Grillby struggled to find a way to lead him to the right answer. Papyrus knew the math - in fact, he obviously knew more math than this question gave him credit for. It was the story part that was tripping him up, and as long as it was presented as a story Grillby wasn’t sure how to make it any easier. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with a lead-in that wouldn’t create some other sort of loophole.

“Before he gave some to Maya, how many did Nick have?” Grillby finally asked.

“OH...THREE?” Papyrus provided, confused by the question.

“Why don’t you write that down here?” He pointed at the blank space where the answer was supposed to go. Papyrus still looked confused but did as was suggested regardless. “Next one: ‘Hana invited five friends to her birthday party. They all had two pieces of cake. How many pieces were there altogether?’”

He barely had the chance to understand the question himself when there was a shaky knock on the door. Odd. Grillby wasn’t expecting anyone over and it was a little too early for Sans to be home, what with the detentions he still had to serve.

Papyrus didn’t even hesitate. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL GET IT!”

He jumped off of Grillby’s lap and dashed off, clearly eager to get away from his homework. Grillby couldn’t blame him; he wanted the whole thing done with too, but avoiding it would just make it take longer. They needed to come up with some sort of system to keep Papyrus from being distracted by the story. Once that was taken care of it would be a breeze. If only Grillby could think of a way to actually do that.

The door was thrown open enthusiastically, followed by a small gasp.

“OH! SNOWY!”

Immediately Grillby was behind his son, any thoughts about homework thrown aside. Sure enough, there was the Snowdrake child standing in his yard. The same child that had pushed his son, ripped his blanket and nearly destroyed his sense of self-worth. That child. Who now had the gall to show his face at their house.

Grillby had to clench his fists and take a breath, reminding himself that he couldn’t let himself explode.

The Snowdrake boy’s eyes were wide as saucers, desperately trying to look at anything but Grillby as tremors coursed through his body. He opened his beak to speak, but all that came out was a garbled mess. He paused, swallowed, then tried again.

“Uh..h-hi Papyrus…” His voice trembled as his feathers continued to shake uncontrollably. “I...uh...I just came by to...uh...t-to say…”

“I’M SORRY, SNOWY.”

Everyone else froze, hardly believing what they just heard.  _ Papyrus _ was apologizing? For what? He hadn’t done anything worth apologizing for, especially considering who he was apologizing to. And yet, Grillby could see it in the boy’s eyes. The earnestness. Whatever this was about, Papyrus really meant it.

“W-What…?” The bird monster sputtered.

“I’M SORRY I WASN’T GOOD AT YOUR GAME. I TRIED NOT TO FALL OVER, I REALLY TRIED! BUT YOU GUYS WERE VERY STRONG PUSHERS...IF I HAD DONE BETTER...THEN CHILLY WOULDN’T HAVE GOTTEN MAD AND…” His fingers rubbed against the front of his cape, words trailing off. 

Grillby might not have the whole story of his son’s school life, but he was starting to get more pieces of it. They weren’t good pieces. Not one bit. And yet somehow Papyrus was blaming himself for all of it, even though it was very clear that he had done absolutely nothing wrong. He stared down at Papyrus, unable to understand how he could ever come to that kind of conclusion, unless…

Of course. Papyrus always saw the best in others. The fact that someone would want to hurt him like that probably didn’t even compute to him. This version of events, where somehow he did something to deserve what had happened, was the only way he could come to terms with the altercation. It was the only way this sort of senseless violence made any sense. 

The fact that he wouldn’t even refer to himself by his new ‘great’ title showed how much he believed this to be true.

“No!” The Snowdrake child cried, shockingly loud. He flinched at his own volume and drew into himself. “...n-no, Papyrus…we shouldn’t have been playing that...that game with you. It’s not a nice game...no one should play it with anyone.”

For a moment Grillby could feel his anger start to subside. It was an odd sensation, almost unwillingly so, but he couldn’t help it. Despite everything, this child in front of them was just that: a child. One that knew that what they did was wrong and would likely never do it ever again. Whether out of moral obligation, or because of the threat that was Sans, no one could know for sure. 

Still, considering Grillby hadn’t been able to get a talk in with Mrs. Snowdrake yet, it was very likely that her son had come here to admit his guilt of his own accord. Even with the negative feelings Grillby had toward him, he had to admit that this was a very admirable act, especially for someone his age.

“OH,” Papyrus said slowly, brow furrowed. “WHY DID YOU PLAY IT THEN?”

His classmate flinched again. “I…I don’t know...I’m sorry, Papyrus.”

“...THAT’S OKAY, SNOWY,” Papyrus replied. He smiled wide, putting hands on his hips like the pose Mighty Man was usually in. “I FORGIVE YOU. AND CHILLY TOO. IT IS OKAY TO MAKE MISTAKES IF YOU LEARN FROM THEM. THAT’S WHAT DAD SAYS.”

He looked up at Grillby, obviously seeking approval. It took a second, but the elemental nodded. Even with the current circumstances, he couldn’t help but suddenly apply that phrase to himself. Was that really true in every situation? With the mistakes that he had done, the damage he had inflicted on the children in his care, could that really be justified by learning experience? The saying felt a little misleading now all things considered. By the look on the Snowdrake child’s face, he could tell the bird was feeling rather similarly - far more relaxed than when he arrived, but still bearing the weight of what he had done.

Grillby pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on his son. Six years old and so full of kindness and compassion. Willing to forgive someone so easily, even someone who had hurt him as badly as those two had.

Grillby made up his mind: he wanted to be Papyrus when he grew up.

“DO YOU WANT TO COME INSIDE AND PLAY?” Papyrus asked, tilting his head to the side. “I HAVE A LOT OF FUN GAMES! ONES THAT ARE NICE TO PLAY WITH OTHERS AND THEY HAVE PUZZLES IN THEM!”

“Oh...um…” The other boy cringed, looking away. “N-Not today. I really...uh...I should be getting home. Yeah.”

Papyrus kept his grin on, but Grillby could see the way his posture slacked, no longer as confident as he was before. “OKAY! SEE YOU TOMORROW, THEN!”

“Y-yeah. See ya.”

They watched the Snowdrake child race off, not even looking back once. Papyrus lingered in the doorway, hand still waving long after their unexpected visitor had nearly vanished amid the snow all around him. Grillby looked down at the boy, soul feeling heavy as he caught a glimpse of Papyrus’ crestfallen face before he quickly masked it with a smile.

“HE COULDN’T STAY AND PLAY TODAY, BUT MAYBE NEXT TIME HE CAN,” He insisted, nodding fervently, grin shaking so slightly. 

There went Grillby’s heart, breaking all over again. 

He held out his arms, knowing instinctively that Papyrus needed some comfort. The boy hesitated, then rushed forward. They just stood there holding each other for close to a minute, souls growing lighter as they did. It was almost like they were pouring out all the negativity and replacing it with love. If it were up to Grillby he could easily stay like this forever.

Once finished, he gently led Papyrus back into the house, closing the door behind them. Surprisingly, there was absolutely no resistance in returning back to the homework they had put on hold, Papyrus nearly dragging him to the table.

“I WANT TO START MAKING PANCAKES,” Papyrus explained as he hopped back onto Grillby’s lap. 

They looked through the questions again, Grillby eventually coming up with a makeshift way to get the answers quickly. He would guide Papyrus to look at the numbers in the question and use those to make an equation, repeatedly instructing him to ignore the actual story. It was a bit of a rocky process, the child still occasionally getting caught up in the irrelevant details, but by the end they were able to make it work. Once Grillby explained it was like a puzzle to find the parts of the math problem, Papyrus was more than willing to focus on that aspect of it. 

Grillby just hoped this method wouldn’t interfere with any word problems in other subjects.

The two of them were standing by the counter, stirring oats and raisins into pancake batter, when Sans arrived home, much more enthusiastically than usual. He threw off his backpack into the couch and practically bounced into the kitchen, notebook held in front of him.

“OH, HELLO SANS!” Papyrus greeted, continuing to beat the batter at a rigorous pace. “GO PICK UP YOUR BAG, THAT ISN’T WHERE IT GOES!”

“no time, pap,” Sans deflected. “i figured it out!”

“...FIGURED OUT WHERE YOUR BAG IS SUPPOSED TO BE?” 

Sans didn’t even seem to hear him, flipping through the back half of the pages in his hand. “in order to prove that dad is in another reality, i need a way to reach those other realities. locate them, at least. even in an alternate realm someone’s magic signature should stay the same, so if i just track dad’s, i’ll be able to find him and the other reality! since i have some of his magical attacks, i should be able to use that easily.”

All of this was going completely over Grillby’s head, not at all helped by the fact that Sans was talking almost a mile a minute,so he just stood and listened, noticing the little excited movements Sans was displaying. His head bobbing up and down. Feet nearly dancing in place. Grin wide and genuine and eyelights bright...and now focused intently on Grillby. 

“i would need to build some sort of scanner to even pick this up - the theory isn’t too complicated but i sorta forgot about the whole building part until i had already drawn up a rough idea.” He pointed to a very crude sketch of...something. Grillby wasn’t entirely sure what it was supposed to be. “we don’t really have access to welding materials here, but then i realized  _ you’re _ a living welding machine, grillbz! i just have to get scrap metal and computer parts from the gerson, and then you and i...you and i…”

He trailed off, suddenly looking down at the floor, face darkening. It was like he caught himself again. Like he wouldn’t let any hint of positive feelings be associated between the two of them. Grillby was so used to the pain by now that it almost felt normal. The way it was supposed to be.

Stars, he was so messed up.

“...only if you want to, i guess. i could probably find some other way…” Sans mumbled, rubbing his arm. 

While Grillby didn’t understand much of the plan, and honestly he couldn’t say for sure if it was a good thing to encourage this kind of reckless behavior (should kids be allowed to weld?), he couldn’t say ‘no’. Not after what he had done to the boy. This was the least he could do to make up for his sins; supporting Sans in any way possible in his quest for the truth. Even if that meant being used like a living power tool.

“Of course I want to,” Grillby said. Sans’ head jolted up, surprise written all over his face. “Just let me know what I need to do.”

“...sure. ok.” He nodded, smile relaxing ever so slightly. “it’ll uh...be a piece of hot cake.”

Papyrus dropped his spoon in the batter, eyes bulging out. “SANS! NO!”

“aw, c’mon, you know you make the best pap-jacks, bro!”

“NYEH!! SANS!”

Grillby chuckled lightly to himself as he used his gloved hands to fish the spoon out of the bowl.

He had no idea what he had just signed up for.


	19. A Promising Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans does some manual labor. For once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell whether I really like this chapter or I really don't haha. It kinda got out of hand really fast and went a direction I wasn't originally planning, but I think it works? Also: New tag! granted I probably should have put it up earlier since Fuku vaguely insinuated it once before but this time, while still somewhat vague (they never outright say the word), they do have a more direct conversation about it. Do with it as you will.  
> Anyways, thank you so much for the support guys! It means a lot

Grillby had no idea why he had so many keys. They jangled on the keyring asynchronously, creating a tinny cacophony. Even with all the doors he knew of - the two entrances to the bar, the garage, front door, bedroom and bath - there were still about five or six key unaccounted for. Copies, perhaps? They surely looked enough alike to be so. Keeping the copies in the same place as the originals sort of defeated the purpose, though.

He tried one he didn’t recognize, sliding it into the lock on the door in front of him.

The snow crunched as Sans stepped over to get a better look. “i didn’t even realize this was back here.”

The entry to the basement had been covered under thick layers of ice and snow just minutes before, basically invisible behind the house, so Grillby could hardly blame him for not knowing about it. Heck, Grillby hadn’t even been down there over a year; he had almost forgotten about it himself.

There was a satisfying click as the door unlocked, letting them both go inside and escape the cold. Immediately the musk of dust and stale air overwhelmed them. Grillby thought he picked up some hints of mold too, but he hoped that wasn’t the case. Probability was high, though. Sans shut the door behind them while Grillby fumbled around for the light switch. Thankfully it appeared that the electricity was still functioning. 

Everything looked about the same as when he had last been here. Piles of stuff strewn about on tiled flooring, most of which could probably be thrown out or donated. A few jackets hanging from some pegs. A storage unit with a counter and some drawers, laden with large boxes. In layman’s terms: a mess. 

“...so it's just more storage? thought we had the garage for that,” Sans remarked, sounding somewhat disappointed. 

“Originally this was a sort of emergency shelter. Reinforced doors and walls, fire and soundproof, and I think there are emergency supplies hidden under the floor somewhere,” Grillby explained, walking over to the counter. “If a human was sighted we’d all huddle down here for a bit.”

“oh. cool.”

“Three stressed flames in a confined space was hardly ‘cool’,” Grillby replied wryly. 

Sans snorted. He sounded like he was about to follow it up with some chuckles, but he caught himself with a sharp intake of breath.

Of course. Couldn’t acknowledge that Grillby had made a joke he found funny.

To his credit, this was becoming much less of a habit. Shortly after the cave incident Grillby would be lucky if Sans spoke to him at all, much less if he was civil about it. Now they had fallen into a weird rhythm, one that wasn’t oppressively negative all the time. Sans still was obviously doing his best not to show that he was getting more comfortable being around his legal guardian again, but he was letting a lot more slip through the cracks. Their time spent together was often pleasant. Dare he say it, normal even? Or whatever passed for normal anymore.

It still wasn’t anywhere close to what their relationship was like before. Grillby had already come to terms with that fact though.

“...uh...what are we doing down here anyways?” Sans asked, “you said it was important.”

Grillby found a cloth in one of the drawers and tossed it Sans’ way. “We’re going to clean this place out.”

Sans balked, looking around at the disaster surrounding him. “b-but! that will take forever! i need to get back so i can work out that-”

“Sometimes the best way to tackle a problem is to step away from it for a little bit,” Grillby explained. “Then you can go back with a fresh mind.” 

Sans stared at him for a moment, searching for an excuse or argument he could use. Eventually he sighed, shoulders slumping forward as he dragged his feet over to one of the many piles of random stuff.

The boy was overworking himself. It was clear from the shadows under his sockets and the reports that he was falling asleep more frequently during school. Ever since he had come up with the plans for this machine he had been nothing less than obsessive about his work on it. He even drew up some fairly official looking blueprints, using a straightedge to make up for his lack of skill. When the scrap metal they ordered from the dump came in he and Grillby had labored for nearly fifteen hours straight to forge a chassis to hold all the electronics. And that was the easy part. From then on he was focused on the internal components, and with the little that Grillby understood it seemed like part of what he was doing was essentially creating a sort of computer. A twelve year old building computer. From scratch. It was mind boggling.

Of course Sans could only do so much without running out of steam eventually. And that eventually came yesterday, when he hit some sort of snag in the project. He had tried explaining what it was to Grillby but it all sounded like a foreign language to him. That left the boy alone to wallow in his frustration, and finally Grillby had had enough. He couldn’t help solve the problem directly, but he could do something to help clear up Sans’ mind of the aggravation, if only for a short while. He had quickly come up with this plan - it was timely too, since he had been thinking about the basement recently for other reasons.

Whenever Grillby was struggling through something, a distraction always did the trick. He only hoped Sans would allow himself to focus on this new task enough to ignore the problem that had been plaguing him for almost a day and a half.

“what am i supposed to do with all this?” Sans asked, motioning to the pile in front of him.

“Divide it up into trash and things we should save,” Grillby instructed.

“...how do i know what we should save?” Sans asked, squinting one socket.

“Ask me if you aren’t sure about something. I trust your judgement.”

Without any further questions the two of them got to work. Grillby focused on what was on the counter, mostly various tools and such that honestly would be a better fit in the garage. There were some of Fuku’s old clothes that she had long outgrown; surely someone in Snowdin could use those. One of the drawers was completely filled with empty hamburger bun bags. Grillby couldn’t even come up with an excuse for that.

He paused when he opened the next drawer. Inside was a familiar photo album, bound in thick leather. It had been so long since he’d seen it, he had almost forgotten about it. He carefully picked the album up, having half a mind to just ignore it and put it in its proper pile, but he couldn’t. Instead he opened it up, flipping through its various pages.

“hey, so do you need another…” Sans’ voice called from behind, only to trail off. His light footsteps could be heard walking over to the counter. “whatcha lookin’ at?” 

Grillby leaned over, bringing the album down to Sans’ line of sight. “This was Fuku when she was an ember.”

The photograph was yellowed and faded, but you could still clearly see a small green wisp of a flame, cradled gently in a fiery red hand. No distinct features had formed yet, like her eyes or limbs. She was tiny. Fragile. So easy to snuff out. It was almost like he could still feel her in his palm, that small soul beating strong and wildly and yet completely defenseless. Pressing her securely in his shirt as he ran through forests and fields, desperate to find other monsters, terrified that they would be humans instead.

“woah. she was really that little...” Sans pondered, holding the spatula he had come to ask about close to his chest. “was this on the surface?”

Grillby shook his head. “There wasn’t time to grab anything.” Except that jar on his mantle, of course. Grillby had unconsciously taken hold of it as he fled the house, hoping to use it as a way to hide Fuku if necessary. It was just the right size to house an ember. Thankfully they had made it to safety before a situation came up to use it.

That was okay. It had found its own use in time.

He turned the page, taking a sharp breath at the picture that met him there. Fuku was older, trying to climb up Grillby’s head as he struggled to keep hold of her, his glasses askew. They were in front of the restaurant, all of the paint and furnishing looking fresh and new. This had to be shortly after the building was finished, right before they opened for the first time. Stars, he looked young. It was hard to even recognize himself after so many years, after all he had been through.

That wasn’t the part he was fixated on, though.

Standing next to him was a tall blue flame, nearly towering over him. He had his arms crossed, obviously not wanting to look too excited, but that was offset by the proud glow emanating off his body. It almost couldn’t be contained. That bar meant so much to him. It cemented them as a part of the Snowdin community. It provided a stable future for his son and granddaughter once he couldn’t be with them anymore. Even here, over a century earlier, Grillby could see how tired his father looked. How he was keeping it together so that Fuku would have a stable environment. 

It did no good to notice those signs now. Why couldn’t Grillby have done something then?

“grillbz...uh…”

The shaky words broke Grillby from his concentration. He turned to Sans, eager to think of something else. The boy was staring up at him with the wide, fearful expression he occasionally had lately. Grillby never quite understood what he had to be afraid of, especially right now.

“you...uh...i mean, you’re...you’re  _ okay _ , right?” He asked slowly, grip tightening on the spatula. 

Grillby didn’t know what he meant by that. He tilted his head, confused.

“...y’know…” Sans tapped lightly against his skull, as if expecting some kind of response, then sighed. “You talked to fuku, right? about...about stuff you didn’t use to talk about…”

It took him a second, but Grillby finally caught on. His gaze wandered back over to the photo album, but he quickly returned his attention to Sans. The child was staring at him so intently, like he was looking for tiny hints as to what Grillby was really feeling.

“Yes,” He informed. “And we still talk about it.”

Fuku made sure to bring up his father at least once every phone conversation, even if it was just a funny memory she had, or relating how she thought he would feel about a current event. It wasn’t easy at first. Grillby was more than ready to close himself up again several times. To not be vulnerable and ignore the fact that he was hurting so much. But then he’d remember how well that went last time, and he wasn’t about to put everyone through that again. He wasn’t going to put himself through that again either.

This didn’t seem to have Sans completely convinced. “so...you’re okay now? you aren’t going to worry about me or...do anything stupid?” 

“I’ll always worry about you Sans. Even when there is nothing to worry about. That’s what…” He was going to say ‘a dad does’ but he caught himself, flinching hard. Sans winced too, most likely from overanalyzing Grillby’s reactions. “That’s my job. And I’ll try my best not to...well, do anything stupid, but I can’t-”

“t-that’s not good enough!” Sans cried, taking a step back. “you can’t just try your best! you...you have to be here for pap! you have to!”

It was then Grillby realized that he had not had a complete understanding of what Sans was trying to get at. He could feel nausea welling up inside of him as the implications became clear. Things that no child should be thinking about, much less asking.

He straightened up. “...what did Fuku tell you?” 

Sans looked away, shuffling in place. “nothing. not really. i just...kinda picked it up. with how worried she was when she would tell you you needed to talk about something and then with...what you told me about your dad and the way you acted around me when I was recovering. and sometimes...when people feel...i don’t know, guilty? sad? they do stupid things. stupid things they can’t take back and...and you…” He paused, breath hissing through his teeth. “pap  _ needs _ you. no one else understands him! they just do things that hurt him even if they are trying to help. if...if you left him all alone...i don’t know if he’d be able to...t-to…”

Tears had started forming in his sockets midway through his speech and were now flowing freely down his cheeks. Grillby could see him shaking as he stood there, and he wondered how long he had been hiding this for. How long this idea had been bothering him.

Grillby kneeled down, instincts screaming at him to hug the boy, but he knew better. Instead, he just kept at his eye level, doing his best to appear strong and not at all rattled by the sight of Sans’ tears.

“Hey. Hey, look at me,” he insisted. Sans’ eyelights slowly moved his way. “I’m not going to do that. I wasn’t going to do that, okay? Fuku was just worried...she does that a lot, just like me. But I’d never do that to any of you.”

_ I’d never do that to you like him _ , he thought, but he knew that wasn’t fair. His father hadn’t chosen to die like Sans was suggesting. Still, he hadn’t done anything to prevent himself from falling either. As soon as Fuku left it was like any will he had to live shattered, and it only had been a matter of time before his body failed him. Grillby knew what it was like to find fresh dust in an empty house. He would do everything in his power to keep Sans and Papyrus from ever experiencing that.

“Even if something happened to me, Papyrus would still have you. You take good care of him, too,” Grillby assured. 

“n-not as good as you…” Sans mumbled. “...i didn’t know what to do about his blanket. i couldn’t help him, but you did. and he...he goes to your room when he’s upset. he doesn’t need me anymore...he just needs you…”

“That’s not true,” He corrected. Sans looked up at him, eyes wobbling. “You protected your brother at school. You always go out and practice with him, even though I know it tires you out. You eat everything he makes like it was the best thing you ever tasted. Papyrus will always need you, Sans. More than anyone else. You’re his brother. No one can replace you.”

It was quiet, aside from Sans trying his best to control his sobbing, taking quick intakes of air, sounding a bit too close to hyperventilating for Grillby’s comfort. Fortunately it didn’t take long for him to calm down, rubbing at his face.

“...can you promise me, grillbz?” he asked softly, breaking the silence.

“Promise what?” Grillby could feel the anxious anticipation building inside of him. Sans took promises seriously. Grillby couldn’t agree to something that he would eventually break. Not like last time.

“promise...that you won’t leave us alone?”

It was used so naturally, without any hesitation, that it was almost easy to overlook the words he used. And yet Grillby couldn’t. 

‘Us’.

This wasn’t just about Papyrus anymore.

It was about both of them.

It was just as much about Sans too, and he was freely admitting it.

This was one promise Grillby knew he would be able to keep.

“I promise, Sans.”

He meant it. More than any promise he had ever made before. And with the way Sans was looking at him, he knew Grillby meant it too.

He wiped off the rest of the moisture from his face, looking down at the spatula in his hand, almost like he had forgotten he was holding onto it. “...oh...yeah…need another one of these?”

Grillby gently took it from him, standing back up. “You can never have too many.”

“y-yeah, ‘cause without them, the burgs would go splat-ula,” Sans attempted nervously, chuckling to himself. “okay. that was really bad. sorry.”

“Well, if I couldn’t make burgers with them anymore, then my customers wouldn’t get fat-ula,” Grillby added.

Sans blinked, then started giggling so hard that his eyes began tearing up again. “g-grillbz, that was...hehe...that was even _ worse _ !”

They spent the next two hours cleaning out the basement, occasionally passing back and forth puns of questionable quality. By the end of it they had several piles, most of which were hauled off to the garage. The trash ones they dropped in the front yard - Grillby would find a way to dispose of or donate them. That left a few supplies to keep for the room’s intended purpose, but other than that it was nice and clean. A job well done.

The two of them looked over their accomplishment, Grillby putting his hands on his hips. “So, did it work?”

“hm?” Sans looked up at him.

“Not so frustrated anymore, are you?” He prompted.

“...oh!” San’s eyes widened. “the machine! i forgot!”

Well, that had been the intention. Good to know they were able to pull it off.

He put a hand to his chin, deep in thought. “wait...wait maybe...i could try…” He trailed off, eyelights brightening as his grin grew larger. “yes! that could work!”

“Ready to get back at it then?” Grillby asked.

He whipped around, about to rush out of the door. “yeah! if i get started now i could probably-!”

“Better go grab everything and bring it down to your new workshop then.”

Sans froze. Slowly he turned back, brow furrowed. “...what?”

Grillby gestured at the basement. “It's yours. If you want it, that is. I thought maybe you’d like a space for yourself to work.”

And he knew for a fact Papyrus would approve of this as well. He wasn’t one to complain so easily, especially over something he knew was so important to his brother, but he had left several hints that the constant hum of the experiment and the occasional flashing lights were making him uncomfortable and greatly affecting his already little sleep. Grillby had started planning a new location for the machine shortly after Papyrus’ second hint. The basement, with its initial purpose as a soundproof shelter, was the perfect place. 

“...i...can really have it?” Sans asked quietly.

“Of course.”

“...it might get a little messy again…”

“I expected that,” Grillby admitted. 

The boy stared at him, eyelights large and filled with gratitude. His hand trembled and started to reach forward, only to stop. He rubbed his arm.

“...thanks, grillbz,” Sans almost whispered. “for...for everything.”

Grillby nodded, chest filling up with a warmth he hadn’t felt in some time with Sans. He had done so much wrong by this child, so much he couldn’t undo, couldn’t ever expect to be truly forgiven for. But as long as he was doing right now, was continuing to do right...maybe it would be okay. Maybe they would be able to finally reach the truth he had tried so foolishly to keep away.

There was so much that he wasn’t sure on, that he definitely didn’t know, but he could count on one thing.

He was going to keep his promise. He would always be here for his boys. No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear (since its kinda vague) Grillby was never suicidal, that honestly was just Fuku and Sans misinterpreting his general sense of ennui, listlessness and sense of of overwhelming guilt as something more.


	20. Gyftmas Time Is Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tis the season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. It's been awhile. Work, sickness, holidays...it all kinda compounded on top of a chapter that for some reason was a real drag to write. But its done, and its long haha. Its also like really disjointed and has pacing issues but it was either I scrap it out of frustration or post it soooo here it is! Next chapter might be a bit but hopefully won't take as long - I'm really excited for the final arc guys.  
> Thanks for waiting patiently! Your support means a whole lot to me! Happy Holidays!

Papyrus was sitting by the door, still as could be and yet undeniably filled with potential energy, just like a rubber band waiting to snap as soon as someone came knocking. A very specific someone. If it had been up to him he would have been waiting in that very spot the whole week, but somehow Grillby and his brother had managed to convince him to hold off the vigil until the evening of. Somehow.

Sans lounged on the couch dressed in a ugly red and green sweater, watching his brother with an amused grin. Grillby was fairly surprised that he had taken the time off to do this. The machine was basically his life now, consuming every hour not spent at school or sleeping - actually, scratch that, he most likely was working through hypotheticals and calculations during school as well. He was so close to completing it, close enough that he even told Grillby he wanted to postpone the trip to the Hotland lab until he had it done with readings so they could take them there and compare. Grillby didn’t think anything could take precedence over this work right now.

But then again, it was Gyftmas.

As important as this project was to Sans, he would do anything for his brother. He also wasn’t hiding the fact that he was enjoying this as well, even if he was content with just watching. Grillby understood the feeling. Seeing Papyrus so excited for tonight was more than enough to make him happy, and he knew that was just going to increase at the night went on. 

Grillby was pleased to find that, unlike the concept of school, the brothers were more than acquainted with Gyftmas. Some of the specific traditions, however, were a little different. He wondered if it was just a Hotland thing. Instead of going to get presents from under the tree in the main square, the gifts were hand delivered to the house. He had tried to explain the tree but Papyrus was adamant that gift giving take place at home. It took some string pulling, but Grillby was able to arrange everything so that this celebration would happen the way his youngest was expecting. At least, he hoped it would turn out that way.

There was knocking on the door. Papyrus sprang up, grabbing the knob and pulling it enthusiastically. He faltered when he saw their guest, obviously expecting someone else, but he quickly brightened up.

“FUKU! YOU MADE IT!” He exclaimed. Before she even had the chance to say ‘hello’ he had thrown his arms around her, forcing her to hold the parcels she had brought above her head. 

Fuku just stood there, eyes wavering a bit as she stared incredulously at the boy. While Papyrus was comfortable around her and liked to hang out with her, he had yet to have any physical contact with her after she had tried to hug him the first time. Fuku had been respectful of his boundaries but had mentioned to Grillby a few times that it was really hard on her. He understood - she was naturally more of a touchy-feely person, and not being able to show affection that way made her feel like she wasn’t doing enough to let him know how she felt about him, that he was now part of her family.

Grillby didn’t even know if Papyrus realized how important this was to her.

Little magic tears started welling up above her cheeks. “...aw...Pap...this is the best Gyftmas ever.”

Papyrus titled his head. “...BUT YOU HAVEN’T EVEN GOT YOUR PRESENTS YET.”

This was better than any present she was going to get all day.

Eventually he let her go, allowing her to enter the house and get adjusted, hanging up a scarf and jacket. Grillby was shocked she had come with any sort of protective gear at all. She sat over on the couch, setting the wrapped packages onto the table next to her. 

“So how are we doing this?” She asked, feeling just about as lost as Grillby was. Usually you would just find the presents addressed to you under the tree and unwrap them all at once. 

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL GO FIRST!” Papyrus announced, gathering up three wrapped items from by the fireplace. They were so tightly packaged that you could start to determine their shape underneath the brightly colored paper. 

He approached his brother first, who had started to doze off, forcing the gift into his hands. “COME ON, LAZYBONES! THE GREAT PAPYRUS MADE THESE IN CLASS - THEY ARE VERY SPECIAL AND VERY GREAT.”

He continued on, passing out the rest to Grillby and Fuku, then sitting back in the middle of the floor, waiting in anticipation for the surprises to be revealed and, for once that evening, not even sparing a glance over at the door. His attention was focused on the three of them, almost bouncing as he sat. 

Grillby wasn’t going to keep him waiting any longer, carefully tearing the paper off of the small object in his hand. He couldn’t quite tell what it was until all the wrapping was off: underneath was a small red bowl with a skeletal handprint pressed in the middle. The edges were smoothed so perfectly, it was clear a lot of care had been put into forming it. Papyrus’ work, through and through. Grillby could imagine his face all scrunched up in concentration as he shaped the dish, not satisfied until there were no flaws to be seen. 

“Wow, Pap! You made this all by yourself?” Fuku asked, holding a small clay statue that, despite a childish rendering, looked strikingly like her. 

“YEAH! IT’S A FUKU FIGURE!” Papyrus answered. “AND DAD, YOU CAN USE THAT TO HOLD INGREDIENTS WHEN YOU WORK!”

It was so precious he would almost rather hang it up on the wall, but if Papyrus wanted it to be put to use, Grillby wasn’t about to argue with that. The bowl was just the right size to hold the chopped onions and other spices he mixed in with the meat to make hamburgers. He would just have to be careful with it - it wasn’t easily replaced like any of his other dishware. 

“This is so cool! I’m going to put it on my desk - my roommate is going to be so jealous!” Fuku announced.

“WELL, MAYBE I CAN MAKE HER ONE TOO!” Papyrus offered. He paused, as if waiting, then turned anxiously. “SANS?”

His brother had been quiet the whole time, staring at the unwrapped gift in his lap. From this distance it was hard to make out exactly what it was, but it clearly had all of Sans’ attention. He picked it up gingerly, letting the string attached to it hang on his fingers. Now Grillby had a better view of the present, able to see the slightly pentagonal shape of...cloth? Paper? It was difficult to say for sure. As it dangled back and forth he could see one side had writing on it, barely catching Sans’ name before it twirled around again.

“YOU HAVE A LAB NOW, AND LAB SCIENTISTS HAVE BADGES, RIGHT?” Papyrus explained somewhat nervously. 

Sans kept staring at it for a moment, completely transfixed. Then he looked up, eyelights softening as his grin widened. “...thanks, pap. it’s...it’s just what i needed.”

“OF COURSE IT IS!” He retorted, relaxing immediately. “THAT’S WHY THE GREAT PAPYRUS MADE IT!” 

Grillby couldn’t help but feel worried as Sans went back to staring at the badge, that weird look about him again. He wanted to ask him about it, but this was neither the time nor place. Regardless, the expression was definitely happy. Just happy twinged with something else. Something that Grillby didn’t understand. 

“Me next! Me next!” Fuku said, raising her hand and waving it back and forth wildly. 

Sometimes Grillby forgot who the actual children in the house were. 

She went through the same motions Papyrus just had, handing out her packages with a gleam in her eye. The boys were quick to indulge her, ripping through the paper to see what she had undoubtedly scrounged up from the dump for them. Grillby found himself oddly less enthusiastic. He wanted not to be wary of what was in the box in front of him, but he knew better. He knew Fuku. She wasn’t going to just get him something she thought he would want; she was going to go out of her way to get something she thought he needed. He had an awful feeling about what that would be this year. 

“WOWIE! A DINOSAUR!” Papyrus exclaimed, holding a plastic figure of a T-Rex. 

“I thought Mighty Man could use someone to fight against. You know, save the people and all,” Fuku reasoned. 

The boy frowned, deadly serious. “THE GREAT MIGHTY MAN DOES NOT HURT ANYONE.”

“Oh!” Fuku flinched, “Of course not!”

“THIS DINOSAUR IS HIS FRIEND. THEY WORK TOGETHER,” He continued. “MAKING TRAP PUZZLES AND KEEPING WATCH AT A SENTRY STATION.”

“Like the Royal Guard?” 

“YEAH! YOU GET IT!” He nodded enthusiastically. “THE GREAT MIGHTY MAN AND DOGAMY AND DOGARESSA ARE THE SAME! AND THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS GOING TO BE THE SAME WHEN I GROW UP!”

This was news to Grillby. He knew Papyrus looked up to the Dogi, most likely because of their constant care and attention when he had first appeared in Snowdin. Equating them to a superhero wasn’t too far from the truth, honestly, and they had contributed to protecting Snowdin when humans had fallen in the past. Papyrus had never made this connection outloud before though. And then...the logical conclusion was that Papyrus had aspirations of joining the Guard.

Grillby could feel his stomach churn at the thought. Papyrus constantly putting himself in danger, day in and day out. Papyrus, grown, but still unable to muster up any inclination to cause any harm. Even if it was someone trying to harm him. Especially if it was someone trying to harm him. Grillby exhaled, trying to remove the sudden stress the idea of all this suddenly brought upon him. Maybe he could talk the child out of it; he was still young, he could still have many paths. Ones that hopefully wouldn’t cause his guardian to have a conniption every waking hour. 

“...look, fuku, i know we had a bit of a rocky start with the prank calls ’n’all, but this is taking it a bit too literally,” Sans drawled, holding up a small clear container, in the middle of which was a decent sized stone.

“It’s a pet rock, you numbskull,” Fuku teased back. “I had one when I was a kid, it was pretty fun. Super low maintenance.”

Sans seemed to think it over for a moment, then his eyes widened. “wait...you’re right! i wouldn’t have to feed it, or clean up after it, or anything! it’s the perfect pet!”

“WHAT? YOU STILL HAVE TO FEED IT, SANS!” Papyrus insisted. “EVERYONE NEEDS TO EAT!”

“rocks don’t, pap.”

“EVERYONE! NEEDS! TO EAT!” Papyrus fumed, starting to fiddle with the front of his cape. No one decided to argue the point any further, even if it was slightly hypocritical coming from a child that they sometimes had to trick into eating his dinner.

That just left Grillby. He had almost not even noticed the package on the arm of his chair. Or willfully ignored it. That could only last so long, and Gyftmas would undoubtedly be ruined if he refused his niece's gift. Reluctantly he reached forward, tearing the paper back bit by bit. His fingers brushed against glass and he froze, realizing what it was before it was completely visible. 

A photo frame, holding a worn photo of himself, Fuku, and his father. Fuku was proudly displaying a certificate that let everyone know she had graduated kindergarten. Just about Papyrus’ age. He tried to keep the focus on that rather than on the figure behind her, warm and proud. So alive, in stark contrast to the current reality. And there was a younger Grillby, naively standing by. Completely unaware, or perhaps just unwilling to do anything to try and fix it?

It was a guilt and thought process he knew was wrong, that Fuku had repeatedly reminded him was wrong, but it was still so hard to let go of it. To not bear the blame for everything.

Maybe having a constant reminder would be a good thing to counteract that.

He stood up slowly then walked over to the mantle. His gaze drifted over to the jar that until recently had been filled with dust. With only a hint of hesitation he pushed it back against the wall, creating space to set the frame up. Paused. Adjusted the new addition some so that it was as visible as it could be.

There. Perfect.

A tug on his arm made him turn. It was Fuku, eyes wavering a bit as she tried her best to hold back tears.

“...it looks good,” She said softly, “I knew it would look good.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her into a tight side embrace. She hugged him back, sighing. Maybe she had been just as nervous about this present as he had been. They just stood there for a moment, their flames reflecting softly in the glass, nearly mirroring their positions in the photograph.

Despite everything, it was still them.

“HEY, SANS, WHERE ARE YOUR PRESENTS?” 

The two of them made their way back to their seats, not wanting to derail the rest of the evening, as Sans grabbed a small folded cloth from behind the chair and handed it to Papyrus. “here ya go!”

“...IT’S NOT WRAPPED,” Papyrus noted, not quite disappointed but not annoyed either. 

“aw, you know that’s too much work for me!” Sans joked. 

His brother mumbled a quiet ‘NYEH’ as he unfolded the present on the floor, his disapproval of Sans’ presentation quickly giving way to wide-eyed wonder. The cloth got a lot bigger when it was all spread out, mostly black save for a white design of a skull and crossbones in the middle. A pirate flag. 

“IS THIS...FROM THE SURFACE?” Papyrus asked, staring down at it in awe. 

“yup! humans put them on big boats sometimes,” Sans elaborated.

He traced the outline of the skull, then looked up, eyes practically sparkling. “SO HUMANS WANT TO BE LIKE SKELETONS!?”

“well, who wouldn’t want to be a cool dude like you, bro?” Sans shrugged. 

It was probably for the best that the younger child didn’t know that the image was supposed to be more threatening than inspiring. 

“THANK YOU SO MUCH SANS! I LOVE IT!” Papyrus bounced on his knees happily, then stopped. “WHAT ABOUT YOUR PRESENTS FOR DAD AND FUKU?”

“oh. right.”

Sans dug through his pockets and produced two crumpled strips of paper, passing them to the elementals. Grillby flattened out the one he got, only to be met with a lazily scrawled ‘i.o.u’.

Sans turned away, face flushed. “...i’ve been a little busy so i didn’t have time to get you guys anything, but i’ll owe you one. promise.”

Grillby wanted to say he wasn’t surprised by this - it reeked of Sans both out of laziness and the fact that his time had been preoccupied as of late - and yet, this was the most surprising thing tonight thus far. Considering the complicated nature of their relationship, Grillby hadn’t expected...well, anything from Sans honestly. Not even an attempt at a gift. Not even a mention. This worn out piece of paper and all that it stood for was above and beyond what Grillby deserved. And a promise? Sans wasn’t the type to promise lightly. 

Still, he was glad that Sans had taken the time to find something for his brother. If all Grillby ended up getting was being able to see the boy’s eyes light up at the sight of the flag it would be more than enough.

“So...this means I can ask you for anything later?” Fuku asked coyly. 

“well, sure,” Sans replied, stretching. “doesn’t mean you’re gonna get it.”

“I’ll try my luck when the time comes.”

Papyrus had folded up the flag again, walking over to Grillby. “CAN WE GO HANG THIS UP IN OUR ROOM?”

“Of course. Let’s wait until a little bit later, though,” He replied, not wanting to sound too defensive about keeping him out of his own room.

The child’s face crumpled, and Grillby immediately felt so much regret. He struggled to come up with something, anything, to reason with Papyrus and somehow put off the inevitable. He was about to give up when everyone was interrupted by a solid knock at the door. Papyrus froze, turning stiffly towards Sans.

“looks like we got ourselves a guest, pap. why doncha answer the door?” Sans prompted, gently putting a hand on his brother’s back. 

Papyrus nervously walked forward, all of his energy before manifesting as little tremors as his shaking hand reached out, grabbing the doorknob. He hesitated, looking back at everyone, almost as if considering if this was a good idea or not. It was cute how antsy the boy was over all this, but Grillby didn’t want him being uncomfortable either. He stood up and walked over beside his son, hoping it would instill some sort of confidence in him. It seemed to work, Papyrus visibly relaxing as he took a breath and pulled the door open.

Grillby couldn’t help but feel a bit a deja vu as he was faced yet again with the broad figure of a bearded boss monster grinning down at him in his doorway - this time, however, he was dressed in a red suit and hat with white fluffy trim, holding a large sack over his shoulder. Despite the obviously abnormal attire, no effort had been put into concealing the monster’s identity. At first Grillby was concerned that this would ruin the illusion, but one look at Papyrus said otherwise. He was absolutely starstruck, staring up at their visitor with his mouth agape. 

“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Gyftmas, Papyrus!” Santa greeted warmly.

It took a moment for him to find his voice. “MERRY GYFTMAS TO YOU TOO, SANTA CLAUS!” 

They made room to let the poor guy into the house, Papyrus gawking the whole time. Grillby shook his head amusedly; the boy knew Santa was coming tonight, that was the whole reason he had set up post in front of the door for hours. Now that the guest of honor was actually here though, it was like he couldn’t believe it was really happening, even though he had made it clear that he was familiar with this yearly tradition. 

Sans halfheartedly raised a hand as Santa wiped the snow off of his boots. “hey there, flu-”

Fuku was on him in an instant, putting her face next to his and glaring so intensely Grillby was surprised it didn’t accidentally shave off any HP. 

“...ther gyftmas. lookin’ real jolly there!” He saved, starting to sweat under Fuku’s warning gaze.

“Thank you, Sans. You look quite festive yourself,” Santa noted.

Sans just grinned lazily back, pulling at his sweater. “everyone wants to get a load of these purls!”

Santa didn’t even try to hold in his laughter, every part of him radiating with mirth. Sans looked pleased to finally have an appreciative audience. Nobody in Snowdin ever gave his wordplay the time of day, though with the sheer amount of puns he made it was slowly creeping on overkill.

Papyrus dashed into the kitchen, returning with a plate of cookies decorated with icing. He held them up to Santa, almost covering his face in the process. Grillby wondered if that was intentional.

“Oh, are these for me?” Santa asked.

Papyrus nodded. “DAD HELPED BAKE THEM, BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS DREW ON THEM ALL BY HIMSELF! ...EXCEPT THE ONE THAT SANS DID.”

He gestured to small cookie on the left, void of any decorative flourish save for a smear of icing in the middle that could almost be called an ‘S’.

“Well, they all look very nice. Almost too good to eat,” Santa praised. 

“BUT YOU HAVE TO EAT THEM!” Papyrus insisted. “THAT’S WHY WE MADE THEM!”

Santa chuckled. “Don’t worry, young one, I will.”

He grabbed one of the snacks, shaped like a small gyftmas tree, and bit into it. After chewing for a bit he smiled, giving a thumbs up. Papyrus broke out into a smile, only to quickly frown. He set the plate down on the coffee table as Santa finished off his treat, fidgeting a bit once his hands were free.

“UM...THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS BEEN QUITE GOOD THIS YEAR. AS USUAL. BUT...” He began. “IF FOR SOME REASON MY BROTHER WAS NAUGHTY, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL TAKE HIS COAL INSTEAD.”

The room went quiet. Sans, who had been sneakily reaching out for one of the cookies on the plate, was frozen mid-reach.

“Papyrus, what are you talking about?” Fuku asked, looking confused and concerned.

“HE...HE DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT CHILLY. HE WAS TRYING TO DO GOOD.” He stopped, pulling the front of his cape up over his mouth, or as much as he could anyways. With everyone so silent you could faintly hear Papyrus continue to mumble behind the fabric.

Grillby felt helpless, wanting to explain the situation to their guest but also not wanting to do anything that would tip off the act. Papyrus hadn’t discussed the incident with the Snowdrake boys after it had happened, and overall had seemed to improve; he was more self-assured and no longer insisted on spending the nights in Grillby’s room. If Grillby had known he was still so bothered by this, stars, he would have done something.

Though, at this point, it appeared that Papyrus was more set off by the thought of Sans fighting someone than anything else.  

Santa kneeled down, smiling sadly at the boy. “I know all about that, Papyrus.”

“Y-YOU DO?” Papyrus asked, letting his hands fall back to his chest.

“Of course. It's how I make my list,” He reminded. “But you don’t need to worry. Just because someone does something naughty, that doesn't mean they are a naughty person. Do you understand?”

“YEAH...YEAH, I DO!” Papyrus nodded, looking less nervous than he was before, confidence gleaming in his eyes.

“Good.” Santa set his sack on the ground. “Now, do you want to see what I brought for you two tonight?”

That was a question that hardly required an answer. Papyrus dragged Sans from the couch so that they were sitting next to each other, waiting expectantly - in Sans’ case, more expectant to see Papyrus’ reaction than his own.

Santa reached around in the bag, making a show of his searching, until he finally found what he was looking for. 

“For Papyrus,” He announced, pulling the present out.

“OH! A RUBIK’S CUBE! JUST LIKE DOC!” Papyrus took the cube happily in his hands.

Grillby did his best not to wince at the mention of the therapist - it was hard not to associate him with negative feelings, even if Dr. Blathers hadn’t intended to do any harm. Besides, this was one of the few puzzle-related toys that Papyrus didn’t own. He could already imagine all the new rules and challenges the boy would come up with to test himself with it.

“And for Sans.” Santa rustled a bit until he procured the other gift, handing it over.

“‘funny business’,” Sans snorted, reading the title of the book he had received. “guess it’ll be my new job to study this then, huh?”

Everyone groaned, except for Santa, making Sans’ grin look even cheekier. 

“THANK YOU, SANTA! WE LOVE THESE, DON’T WE SANS?” Papyrus prompted.

“yup. really means a lot, big guy,” Sans agreed, though he was looking at Papyrus rather than his gift. 

“I’m glad of it,” Santa said, eyes crinkling under the weight of his smile. “But, I’m afraid I have to leave now. I have more business to do before the night is done.”

“OH. YOU MUST BE VERY BUSY, HUH,” Papyrus realized, a little disappointed. 

“Yes, but I will be here next year,” He assured gently. “And you can always send me a letter if you’d like.”

“REALLY?” The child asked, brightening up immediately. 

“Of course!” Santa replied, beaming. “Now, I believe your father has something to show you up in your room.”

“HUH?” Papyrus asked, turning to Grillby. Even Sans was called to attention, interest piqued. 

Grillby just shrugged. “Why don’t we go find out?”

Papyrus waved at Santa, thanking him again, before bolting up the stairs, nearly tripping several times on the way up. Grillby and Sans followed after, surprised to find him waiting at the closed door for the two of them. Normally he would have charged right in, unable to contain his intrigue and excitement. Once they were all there the door was opened and both boys walked in curiously. Grillby watched from behind, feeling oddly nervous about the whole thing. That was stupid. The night was going well so far, there was no reason to get worked up over this. With all the effort it had taken to get this ready and moved into their room without them noticing though, it definitely would be a little disappointing if they didn't like it. 

Everything in the room was the same mostly. Neatly organized books and toys on one side and a disheveled mess of clothes and papers on the other. Now there was just two very noticeable additions to the furniture: a desk with a monitor set up on top connected to a tower below, and a large red plastic racecar in the corner. The brothers were standing in front of these recent changes, staring at them with wide eyes.

“...you got me a desktop?” Sans asked, approaching the keyboard on the desk. 

“It would be easier to research here than always going to the Librarby,” Grillby explained. “Undernet has a lot of resources. And it can run calculations and scenarios faster than you can now.”

Sans looked at him, pupils focused intently as the wheels turned inside his head. What exactly he was thinking about, though, it was hard to tell. Something serious enough to make his browbone wrinkle, that was for sure. 

Papyrus had jumped into the mattress in the car, examining all of the details of the vehicle and complimenting them loudly. There was no steering wheel, or dashboard at all really, but that didn’t seem to be an issue at all. Grillby felt himself relax as he watched Papyrus inspect the tires ecstatically. Technically the gift was a bed, but Grillby wasn’t going to bring that up yet. He didn’t want Papyrus to think he couldn’t stay in the one with Sans anymore, but Grillby knew it wasn’t going to last. It took him awhile, but he had recently realized that Papyrus had been growing a lot since coming to Snowdin, and not just in maturity and confidence. He was already a few inches taller than he was the day he peeked out behind his brother in the bar, and it looked like it would only take about a year for him to match Sans in height. Having this bed here would give Papyrus the option when he made his choice. And, until then, he was more than thrilled to just have the car as a new toy.

A successful Gyftmas all around then.

Grillby let that weight fall off his shoulders.

Small skeletal arms wrapped around him, nearly tackling him with the amount of force thrown into it, as Papyrus snuggled close. “THANK YOU, DAD! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!”

Grillby hugged him back, sighing. “I love you too, Papyrus.”

They headed back downstairs, where Fuku was getting snacks ready to take outside. Now that all the gift-giving was over with the plan was to go out to the tree in town and experience the rest of the Snowdin festivities. Grillby hoped seeing all the presents under the tree might help convince Papyrus to do it that way in the future. He didn’t like the idea of separating the kids from their peers by doing the traditionally public gift exchange behind closed doors. At the same time, though, it was kind of nice to do it differently for once. Whatever made the two of them happy in the long run, that’s what he would end up going with. It wasn’t bad to give them options though.

“Get bundled up, babybones! It’s gonna be cold out there,” Fuku said cheerfully as she heated up water to make hot chocolate. She grabbed the mix to stir in and paused. “Did you leave Sans upstairs?”

Grillby looked around. Sure enough, Sans wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

“SANS! WE ARE GOING TO LEAVE!” Papyrus called up the staircase. When no one answered he scampered on up to the room.

Grillby just stood there, forcing himself not to even consider any negative possibilities. Even then he couldn’t help his stomach from dropping when Papyrus returned down the stairs alone, confused expression on his face.

“...HE’S NOT UP THERE? BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS DIDN’T SEE HIM COME DOWN…”

Neither had Grillby. That’s what was worrying him. Although Sans hadn’t abused his ability much, to Grillby’s knowledge at least, the very fact that the boy had the power to teleport anywhere he wanted to was nerve wracking. Not even to mention how fragile his health was or how easy it would be to overuse his magic. With all those factors, this scenario was nothing but a nightmare waiting to happen.

Unless it wasn’t.

“Go on ahead, I think I know where he is,” Grillby said, doing his best to feel calm as he continued to reassure himself. The best he could, anyways. 

Fuku looked concerned but did as she was told anyways, directing Papyrus outside with his winter gear on and a mug of hot chocolate in his hands. Grillby slowly put on his own coat and scarf, grabbing Sans’ hoodie, adjusting everything before heading out.

Normally he would knock before entering the basement but he was too jittery to just stand there and wait for an answer that might not come. He entered quickly, closing the door behind him so no snow tracked in; unnecessary moisture could have adverse effects on the machinery. 

It was weird how different the place looked now. The once cluttered area was now fairly neat, blueprints and other documents lining the counter. On the far end was the machine, made up of a large monitor, several knobs and buttons and a keyboard. There was a large casing around it all that apparently housed the processor, power, and plenty of other parts that Grillby didn’t really understand. The initially small project was now tall enough to almost reach the ceiling, all essential parts low enough to the ground for Sans to reach. 

The boy was crouched by the control panel right now, staring at the monitor with such focus Grillby wasn't even sure he had heard him enter. Thank the heavens he was here. Grillby wasn’t sure where he would have looked next if he wasn’t, or in what state he would have found him in. The elemental cleared his throat, causing Sans to jolt, turning around sharply. The badge Papyrus had made was hanging from his neck.

“o-oh! heya, grillbz!” He said shakily. “made me jump out of my skin there.”

Grillby didn’t say anything, letting the anxiety blow off of him like smoke. Sans was here. He was safe. He was in what seemed to be good spirits. Nothing was wrong. There was no reason for him to have worried at all. He couldn’t tell if that made him feel better or just made him frustrated that Sans had unnecessarily caused him worry in the first place. 

“the desktop made me think of something, so i decided to set this thing up while we were out so i could have some readings to test later tonight. and so far its working! i mean...ha...i can hardly believe it, but it...it…” He stopped when he realized that Grillby wasn’t sharing his enthusiasm, frowning in confusion. 

“...no one knew where you were,” Grillby explained flatly.

Realization dawned on Sans’ face. “...oh.”

“Just...tell someone next time before you disappear.”

“yeah. yeah, ok. sorry,” he mumbled, sighing. “is pap upset?”

“Bewildered, more likely. Couldn’t figure out how you snuck past him,” Grillby informed.

Sans snorted. “sounds about right.”

Grillby approached the machine, looking over at the monitor. There was a string of numbers and letters running continuously on the top, writing and rewriting in what seemed to be a loop. Underneath it was what almost looked like a map or a graph, with a line running through it. 

Sans grinned up at him, pointing over to a pulsating dot floating somewhere off the line. “that’s my dad.”

“That’s…” Grillby repeated, not quite understanding it all the way. “You found him?”

“...i think, anyways. i was able to get the machine to read his magic signature from his blaster and then...well, then this showed up!” He jabbed at the dot again. “its faint but its still picking up now, and it's been a couple of hours. but it looks like i was right, he’s not in our timeline.”

Sans continued to explain but none of his science jargon made any sense to Grillby at all. Only one thing got through to him: Sans had potentially found Gaster. The idea of it was...conflicting to Grillby, to say the least. He was proud of Sans’ progress, his technical genius to even get this far, and his steadfastness to see this plan through. He was excited to see this succeed, to see a conclusion to all the research he had done on the existence of Dr. Gaster.

He was also terrified that Dr. Gaster would end up being exactly what they all feared from the start.

He was even more terrified that that Dr. Gaster wouldn’t.

“...so if i can write the program correctly, i’ll be able to bring him back,” Sans said, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Grillby stared at the boy, not having any idea what he had just said.

“it’s like a battle! y’know how you summon a soul at the start? i’ll just be summoning one...from another plane of reality...which sounds crazy but as long as this signal holds i should be able to use the data to make this work! it's not the most secure way to do it, but it’s the easiest,” He explained. “the hardest part is getting the power and...well, actually programming the machine to make it work. but it's close, grillbz! closer than i thought!”

Grillby hesitated. “Just let me know what I can do to help.”

Sans didn’t even seem to notice. “oh we’ll have plenty to do very soon.”

They set off once Sans was sure the machine would continue tracking the signal while they were gone, throwing on his hoodie. It was later than Grillby had intended, but it still seemed like plenty of people were out and about, a pleasant hum emanating from the heart of the town. Children were running around, showing off their new toys and gadgets, while adults stood nearby watching, sipping on drinks and talking to neighbors merrily. In the middle of it all was the tree in the square. It was always there, and for nearly two months was always this festively decorated, but something about this night always made it seem magical. The lights were soothing and bright, twinkling under a magnificent golden star. 

It wasn’t hard to find Fuku and Papyrus in the midst of it all, and Sans was quick to march their way. Grillby was right behind him when something caught his eye.

“I’ll be there in a second. Make sure Papyrus shares some of the hot chocolate, okay?” He instructed. Sans nodded lazily, needing no further explanation.

There was a figure standing off from the rest of the crowd, trying to obscure themself beside the inn. Grillby walked up to them slowly, not wanting to draw any attention from the monsters around. The king of the Underground saw him approach, smiling wide. He had ditched the santa outfit, dressed now in a baggy jacket and sweatpants. Looking very...unroyal, to say the least. 

Grillby stood there, wondering why the king hadn’t returned to New Home but not sure how to ask, or even if he should ask. It was rather presumptuous to assume where a ruler should and should not be, right? 

“This is nice, isn’t it?” The king asked, gesturing to the tree and people before him. 

Grillby nodded.

“Much nicer than an empty home.”

Oh.

“Tonight was the best Gyftmas I’ve had in some time. I thank you for that, friend. I would very much like to do it again next year, if you would have me.”

Grillby nearly laughed at how backwards this was. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one thanking the leader of his people for this imposition instead of the other way around? And then he asks to do it again on top of that! No matter what situation he was in, Asgore Dreemurr seemed to make sure to make it equally comfortable and awkward at the same exact time. Grillby wasn’t sure how else to describe the current state he was in, flustered and relaxed all at once.

“...Papyrus is going to take you up on those letters, you know,” Grillby warned, finally finding his voice.

“I look forward to it,” the king replied jovially.

Grillby suddenly felt like an enormous jerk for suggesting that some form of loving and regular correspondence to a broken and lonely man would be an inconvenience, even if the very fact that that man was the king and thus busy with more important things still made it that much of an inconvenience.

There goes that comforting awkwardness again.

The king rested a paw on his shoulder. “You’re doing a good job, friend. They looked much better tonight.” He paused. “ _ You _ looked much better tonight. I knew you would be up to the task.”

Grillby couldn’t help but wonder if the king would be so willing to praise him if he knew the things he had done, the mistakes he had made? How could anyone praise him knowing the darkest stains on his soul? Grillby knew he couldn’t give the same courtesy to himself. Not when he was still drowning in his well deserved guilt.

The king seemed to sense this conflict. “Why don’t you take a look for yourself?”

Grillby followed his gaze reluctantly back to his family, standing next to the Gyftmas tree. Sans was sipping on the hot chocolate, leaning against his brother as Papyrus admired the decorations. The lights reflected in their eyes, dancing in different colors and revealing something Grillby hadn’t really seen before. Affection. Joy. Comfort. Love and the contentedness that could only come with knowing that you were loved back in return.

He hated to admit it, but maybe the king was onto something.

If Sans and Papyrus were this happy, he had to be doing something right.


	21. Blow Us All Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You knock me out, I fall apart  
> and I thought I was so smart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow its been...a couple of months hi.  
> I never meant to leave this long but writing became something I felt guilty about with everything else I had to do. Thankfully I started to get more time and I managed to churn this out in about a month, while also solidifying future plot points that I hadn't been sure about. I don't know how soon the next update will be but I assure you it will come. I'm literally like...4-5 chapters from the end now with basically everything happening around the same time so it would be hard to just drop it at this point haha.  
> Thank you all for sticking with it and like...still leaving kudos and reading. I was floored at the activity I got even with the small hiatus. I wish this chapter was a bit better to reward you with but I know it has some pacing issues...sorry. The next one will definitely be better, I promise.

Despite not understanding any part of what he was doing, watching Sans at work never failed to entertain Grillby.

Even now the boy was tinkering away, frowning in concentration as he tightened some screws on the side of the machine, then rushing over to type something into the control panel. It was hard not to notice the resemblance to his brother; the way their brows ridged as they solved a difficult problem, their hands fidgeting as they waited to see the results of their efforts. As different as the two of them were in so many aspects, it was surprising just how much they also had in common. There was no denying that they were related to each other.

Sans spending most of his time in his workshop wasn’t anything new. Even Grillby being there wasn’t abnormal - he and Papyrus had come down to keep the older boy company on a few occasions, though usually with the intent to get Sans to take a break (which usually just meant doing some coding on his computer). What was new, however, was the fact that Sans had actually invited Grillby down this time. Papyrus too, but homework was preventing him from joining them just yet. 

Considering this unprecedented act on Sans’ part, Grillby could only assume that he had made some sort of breakthrough, or else needed Grillby’s help for something. Since Sans had barely spoken a word after they entered the basement, the flame figured it more likely to be the former.

The young skeleton wiped his forehead, taking a step back from the machine. “...ok. that should do it.” He turned to Grillby. “it's time for a trial run.”

Grillby tilted his head.

“i’m gonna test the retrieval program. i’ve done a few simulations and it should work,” Sans explained. “as long as we keep the variables simul-ar, which i have.”

Grillby was too confused to register the pun. “So you're done.”

“maybe. more likely it'll just expose a surprise flaw in my coding but...heh…” His smile widened, barely able to contain his excitement. “yeah. this could be it. i could bring my dad back.”

The pride and fear swelled up in Grillby at the same time, and he did his best to only let the positive emotions show. This was good. Sans had accomplished so much, entirely on his own. He had fought and struggled and endured even when the entire world, their entire reality even, seemed against him. No small feat for a twelve year old.

Why then was Grillby still so terrified that this machine of his would actually work?

_ “Beware the man who speaks in hands.” _

He shook off that latent feeling of dread. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“i need someone to watch in case it goes wrong; i might miss something. and besides…” Sans answered, voice growing quieter. “you are kinda my lab assistant…”

Grillby never realized that that was something he wanted to be until this very moment.

“i mean, i’d pick pap first but he hates doing all this stuff, so i guess you’re just going to have to do,” he smirked. 

Not so long ago this could have come across as a genuine display of hatred, Sans twisting the knife into his heart even further. Now it was different. Now it was clearly spoken in jest, a friendly jab. A sign of familiarity, perhaps even affection? Grillby knew it was probably too much to assume that. He didn't deserve anything from Sans anyways, so he was more than willing to take whatever he could get.

The boy traced the outline of the badge hanging around his neck. “welp. no point in pushing it off any longer. let's do this thing.”

He tossed Grillby a blank notepad and a pen for writing down quick observations - something Grillby didn't even have confidence he could do, but he would surely give it his best. The elemental clicked the pen open as Sans got into position in front of the machine. Although he was facing away, Grillby could still see the reflection of his now glowing eyes in the metal before him. It only took a few moments for the giant bestial skull to materialize above.

Grillby would be lying if he said that the weapon didn't still send chills down his spine.

Once it had finished it's slow arrival, Sans leaned forward onto the control panel, catching his breath as the color in his pupils disappeared. The skull hovered above silently, neither aggressive nor especially peaceful. Just sort of mindlessly floating there.

“...ok...ok…” He huffed between deep inhales. “that should lock the connection to the soul signature…”

“Are you okay?” Grillby asked, not wanting Sans to strain himself but also not wanting to somehow set off the beast as well.

He waved his hand absently without even turning around. “just...gotta set this up, then…” Bony fingers tapped away at the keys. “...fight start.”

There wasn’t much of a difference at first. Some of the indicators on the machine lit up. A low hum rumbled from the core of the metal. The small dot on the monitor that represented Gaster blipped intermittently. Grillby couldn’t tell if this was going well or… well, if it was even going at all. Sans wasn’t reacting in any way, eyes just glued to the screen. That must mean it was proceeding as planned, right? Grillby did what he could to jot down what was happening, not sure what was considered important for the process or not.

“...it’s holding...i think it’s working!” Sans exclaimed. “he’s being pulled toward our timeline!”

Sans turned briefly back to Grillby, beaming with excitement. Grillby couldn’t help but get caught up in it too. Everything was falling into place. It was going the way it was supposed to go.

And that’s exactly when it started to fall apart.

The lights in the room dimmed sharply, and Grillby suddenly realized that their electricity might not be strong enough to power this operation. He barely had time to start thinking about how to work around that before a shattering crash broke any thought processes he had. His head shot up just in time to see the machine vibrating violently, part of the side console rattling loosely as several screws trickled to the ground. 

“no...no, no...no, no, no!” Sans muttered nervously. “just a little bit longer…!!” 

He worked feverishly, typing faster than seemed physically possible. Whatever he was doing, it didn’t seem to help. The little lightbulbs on the instrument panels were blinking non stop, faster and faster as the seconds passed. Grillby could feel the heat building as tendrils of smoke started billowing out of the top of the machine.

He knew he was supposed to be writing things down. That he was supposed to be recording everything that was happening so they could avoid any mistakes like this in the future. He couldn’t ignore the disaster unfolding before him, though. This environment was no longer safe, and he needed to do whatever he could to diffuse it. Even if it meant shutting the machine down before it was finished doing its job.

Blue bones shot up out of the ground before he was even able to take a step forward.

“stay back!” the boy demanded, looking back at him frantically. “i...i’ve got this! i can fix this! just, stay back!”

The humming from the computer was amplifying steadily, distorting into a screech that was expanding into every inch of the room. The blaster skull disintegrated into particles as Sans struggled to keep the bones in place and focus on his work at the same time. All the while the machine grew more unstable, more volatile.

More likely to unleash all the energy it was storing inside.

Grillby didn’t care how much HP he would lose. He was going to grab his son and get out of there before anything got worse. 

“WHAT’S ALL THIS RACKET DOWN HERE?”

It should have been impossible to hear anything over the clamor of the machine, and yet Papyrus’ voice rang out clear as a bell. Grillby dropped the pen and paper as he turned to see the child walking through the doorway, covering his ears with his hands. 

Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. A bright light was tearing out of the machine, seeming to engulf the basement as it raced toward them. Grillby didn’t hesitate, scooping up Papyrus and preparing to race after Sans only to see he was no longer standing by the console. No, the boy was right next to him, tottering slightly as the ground shook. A skeletal hand grabbed his and squeezed tightly.

“hold on!”

Grillby could feel the rhythm of magic charging up and releasing as his vision turned blue. In an instant the light, the machine, the basement, the fabric of reality itself - all of it slanted and compressed on top of each other, nearly flipping upside down. The amount of pressure pushing down was so great it threatened to crush every part of him. Colors and details faded away, replaced with a cold, suffocating darkness. 

Then Grillby was staring at the ceiling of his living room.

For an indeterminate amount of time -minutes, hours, days? - he lay there on the floor, letting himself slowly regain his grounding. The hardwood planks underneath him. The yellowing paint on the ceiling above. A small body curled up on his chest, nestled in his arms. The vague and ominous smell of smoke wafting up from below.

He was alive. Alive and gradually more aware. Unfortunately, any relief he was feeling over that fact was quickly replaced with anxiety. The house felt stable and oddly normal considering the events in the basement, but that was only one of many worries. He sat up and inspected the child he was holding, realizing that neither boy had said a word since they landed here. Hopefully that could be chalked up to them being overwhelmed by everything that just happened. 

Papyrus was clinging to him, eyes wide and slightly unfocused. In shock. Grillby started rubbing his shoulder to try and calm him. Poor little guy was just coming down to make sure everyone was all right. He had no idea what he had been walking into, no time to process all the sights and sounds that had accosted him as soon as he entered the workshop. 

Papyrus wasn't responding as well as Grillby would have hoped, but the elemental himself was having a hard time staying calm. He hardly understood what had transpired with the machine, his mind still reeling from the sensory overload and adrenaline, and he didn't even want to think about what the basement looked like after all that. Despite all that, he had to be strong. If he was a sturdy foundation then the three of them would be able to weather the storm, no matter how big.

Realizing Sans was no longer next to him, holding his hand, he turned to find the boy.

Almost immediately any semblance of strength seeped out of him.

Sans was a few feet away, sprawled on the floor. He was twitching sporadically, heaving deep, rattling breaths. Grillby couldn't remember setting Papyrus down or even moving, but the next thing he knew he was by Sans’ side, staring down in horror. The boy was fighting to keep his eyelights steady, the hazy orbs locked on Grillby’s glasses. A red liquid started escaping from between Sans’ teeth, dribbling onto his chin. His voice mumbled, as if he was trying his hardest to say something. Something he needed Grillby to hear.

And then his eye sockets went dark. 

Grillby couldn’t move, could barely breathe. It was the very nightmare he had had for the last few months. Except this time it was real. Painfully real. Already he could see his flames reflecting in the slick appearance of the child’s bones. He wasn’t imagining it like Dr. Cottontail had suggested. This was all taking place in front of him, just like before, and there was no way to deny it.

It was happening again. 

Grillby had failed Sans again.

This time might be the last.

He put his head in his hands, the thoughts and anxieties buzzing around him incessantly, making it impossible to think a coherent thought. It was as if the machine was exploding over and over again inside of him, a cacophony of screams and blinding lights. He could feel his flames burning erratic, threatening to unleash themselves, but there was nothing he could do. He really was powerless in all of this, wasn’t he? Only good for watching people around him turn to dust. 

Sans was going to dust.

Grillby was going to -

“HE NEEDS HIS MEDICINE.”

Papyrus’ voice shook him back to reality. The boy was kneeling next to him, gaze still distant.

“His...his medicine?” Grillby asked, sounding much more shaken than he ever wanted his son to hear.

Papyrus nodded, frowning in confusion as his eyes started to focus again. “...IT'S NOT HERE, THOUGH. IT'S AT HOME.”

The skeleton child seemed perplexed at his own statement, but it was okay. Grillby was able to pick up the remaining pieces.

Dr. Cottontail had been wrong. Very wrong. This was obviously not a normal case of magical exhaustion. Magical exhaustion didn’t do...whatever this was doing to Sans’ body. Even without extensive medical knowledge he felt confident in that. Somehow, Grillby recalled references to a ‘condition’ in Sans’ notebook. A condition and a medicine he sometimes had to take for it.

That medicine wouldn't be here at all. It would be in Hotland. In the house of Dr. W. D. Gaster.

In an instant Grillby realized what he had to do to save Sans.

He stood up quickly, almost instinctively grabbing his coat but he thought better of it. Where he was going he wouldn't need that anyways. He turned to Papyrus, saw him look so small and alone, tugging at the cape around his neck, and immediately questioned his decision. Leaving the boy here in this state, after everything that had happened, felt wrong. Very wrong. 

At the same time, though, he couldn't have anything slowing him down on the way. He couldn't worry about two children when there was an obvious clock hanging over the life of one. 

He couldn't let Papyrus lose his brother forever. 

“Papyrus, I need you to listen to me,” Grillby said, crouching down to his level. 

Papyrus nodded, appearing more aware than he had been a few minutes ago. Good. Grillby needed him to listen closely.

“Call Dogaressa and tell her to come over. You...you remember her number right?”

That was a dumb question, and Papyrus gave him a look that made it obvious. Numbers were always easy.

“I have to go get Sans his medicine but we’ll be back as soon as that’s done, okay?” Grillby said, doing everything possible to not let the child see how frightened he was. “Stay here and stay safe. We won’t be too long.” 

Papyrus nodded again, but he looked conflicted. Or at least, as conflicted as he could be while still being dazed.

Grillby wrapped his arms around him, giving a gentle squeeze. “Good. You’re a big boy, Papyrus. I love you.”

“I LOVE YOU TOO.”

There was no time left to lose. Grillby drew back and made his way over to Sans. His condition hadn’t changed at all, and Grillby had no idea if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Gently, he lifted Sans up into his arms - stars, he felt so light, so empty - and headed toward the door. It took a lot of self control not to focus on the damp softness of the boy’s bones, which was already making him feel nauseous thinking about. They just needed to get out, and fast.

He didn’t dare look behind him as he shut the door, but his soul shuddered a little as he heard a faint ‘LOVE YOU TOO, SANS’ from inside the house. 

Snowdin was a blur. Grillby had no idea if he passed anyone on his way - surely he had to - but even if he did he paid them no mind. He had a singular focus, a singular goal. Everything around him was unimportant and irrelevant. All that mattered was Sans was still alive and there was still time to save him.

It was a little shocking, then, when the Riverperson suddenly was in front of him.

“Tra la la~ It seems you have decided to run to, not from.” The caped figure tilted their head a bit, almost as if they were amused. 

Grillby looked around, realizing he had made it to the dock at the edge of Snowdin. He didn’t even consider the danger of falling into the water as he clambered onto the boat. “I need to go to-”

“Home is where the heart is, but Hotland works too,” the Riverperson said matter-of-factly.

He couldn’t help but stare at the strange monster before him, unable to come up with a reason why they would know this information. He nodded slowly, taking a seat.

The boat took off without any further discussion. Grillby tightened his grip on Sans as the vessel gained speed, dimly aware of the water hazard all around him. The skeleton still felt soft and warm. Much warmer than usual. It wasn’t Grillby’s heat affecting him either; the warmth seemed to be emanating from inside his body, almost like a fever. It was the strangest fever Grillby had ever encountered though. He could sense the temperature rising in strange bursts, as if it was bubbling inside the boy.

If only he could understand what all of this meant.

“Tra la la~ You can’t make an omelette without breaking an organ or two.”

Grillby turned to the Riverperson. The monster was leaning out over the water precariously, seemingly very calm despite the ominous words they had just spoken. The Hotland dock was in sight at this point, the boat gracefully coming to a halt as they approached their destination. Grillby stood up far before it was safe to do so, adjusting his hold on Sans so that he’d be more secure, then jumped onto the red-tinged earth. His landing was a tad shaky, but he refused to lose his balance. He’d be more impressed about this feat if the panic still wasn’t eating at the edge of his sanity.

He looked back, giving a small nod toward the Riverperson, thankful for the expedited trip. They shook their head in return.

“Beware the man who came from the other world.”

Grillby tried not to think about that as he ran toward the unknown.

If Snowdin was a blur, Hotland was a smear. Red and greys blending into each other as Grillby struggled to identify where exactly he was. Or, more precisely, where he was supposed to go. Asgore had said that the guard were not able to find the house that Sans had claimed existed. All Grillby had to go off of was that it was near the Core, but that left a lot of possibilities. He dashed through the streets, nearly running into several Vulkin and Pyrope in the process. From his understanding he was headed near where the Core was, so that was a start.

It quickly ended, though, when he was stopped in front of a chrome building.

There was nowhere else to go, as far as he knew. There were a few other ways to get further into Hotland, and eventually reach New Home, but this was the only one that would take you to the Core. To where Sans said he lived. So this had to be it, right? 

The building was very industrial, a far cry from a home with young children. Ducts coming out the top. No windows to be seen. But there was a door. Grillby walked up to it, only to realize a crucial part was missing: there was no knob or handle to use. He pressed around, trying to see if there was a way to push it open. After a few minutes it was clear that it wouldn’t work.

He leaned his head against the outside of the structure, trying to think of what else he could do. Was there even anything else to do? The guard couldn’t even find what he was looking for, how had he expected to find it himself? 

This whole thing had been stupid. Impulsive. He should have just stayed home and called Dr. Cottontail. Now he had wasted so much time on something that for all he knew might not even exist. Something that probably won’t even help. Maybe it wasn't too late to go back. To get the doctor to monitor him again and provide some healing. Maybe then he wouldn’t-

“Y-you’re not doing it correctly.”

Grillby nearly jumped. Looking down, there was a reptilian child standing nearby. The yellow monster was wearing oversized glasses and a pink dress. She shrunk into herself a bit once he turned his attention onto her, not making direct eye contact. 

“The...um...the d-door, that is…” She mumbled, holding her hands close to her chest. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“...what do I do?” Grillby asked, wondering if maybe it was just a Hotland thing he wasn’t aware of.

“S-see the panel next to it?” She pointed just to make sure. “You have to p-put his hand on that. It's only coded for certain monsters.”

Grillby looked the girl over, wondering how she could possibly know any of this. She seemed around Sans’ age, and the way she was looking at him...it was almost like she knew who he was.

Suddenly it all clicked. “...Al?”

The yellow monster froze. “Alphys. Um...have...have I-I met you before?”

Now it all made sense. This was the child that Sans had written about. The daughter of one of Dr. Gaster’s coworkers. 

“He has,” Grillby replied, gesturing to the boy in his arms.

“...oh…” Alphys squinted at Sans. “I...feel like I’ve seen h-him somewhere...but…” She looked down at her clawed feet.

“You knew he could open the door,” Grillby offered, hoping to spark some memory in her.

“I...I k-know!! But…” She sighed. “I don’t know how...I just know s-skeletons can open it…”

Grillby waited a bit to see if anything came to her, but he recognized that look in her eyes. The frustration that he had so often seen in Papyrus whenever he couldn’t remember something about his life in Hotland. Those memories were gone, distorted by whatever it was that had happened that sent Dr. Gaster away. Alphys didn’t probably know anything else, but that didn’t matter. 

He gingerly took hold of Sans’ limp hand and pressed it against the panel. Immediately the door slid up, allowing them to go through.

Yes. She had helped more than enough.

“Thank you, Alphys,” Grillby said, a twinge of hope igniting his adrenaline.

“Oh...it's…” She blushed, smiling. “It was nothing.” A pause, growing serious. “I hope he gets better.”

Grillby nodded. That was all he wanted too.

He entered the building. The interior was just as industrial looking as the exterior. Metal walls and flooring, artificial lighting making it feel a little too bright. It was less a room and more a surveillance area, all of the furniture holding a functional purpose. There was a desk, a few cabinets and other storage, along with a large screen taking up most of the wall perpendicular to him. As he looked it all over he could hear the door close behind him. He supposed the same method he used to get him would let him out, but he was too focused now to worry about that.

Besides, he couldn’t put Sans’ hand on the panel if he dusted.

There was an escalator going up to a second floor, and Grillby ran over to it. The speed was faster than he expected but he managed to keep from falling backwards. Surprisingly, the escalator seemed to go through the second floor and back down to the first, so he had to jump off rather quickly, running into a bed in the process. 

It was like a bedroom, with one super wide bed, a dresser, and another desk. He took it all in, trying to find something, anything that looked like medication. The dresser had all sorts of clothes in it, mostly in children's sizes, as well as a variety of toys and books. He moved over to the desk, rummaging through the drawers and scanning the top. He froze, gaze landing on a picture frame in the middle of a chaotic pile of papers. It was a little fuzzy, but he could still make out Sans and Papyrus, younger by a year or two. Behind them was a nondescript taller figure, whose appearance seemed to shift and dissolve the longer he looked at them. Despite that, he had no question who the individual was.

Dr. W. D. Gaster.

This was his house.

Sans had been right all along.

As much as this gave him a sense of relief, he couldn’t help the anxiety springing up again. This revelation didn’t bring him any closer to finding where Sans’ medicine was.

Grillby returned to the first floor, cradling Sans on his shoulder. The boy didn’t even feel like he was breathing, heat rising by the second. There was no more time for any mistakes.

There were two other doors in the surveillance hall. One looked like another exit, so he headed to the other one instead. It slid open as soon as he approached, revealing a tiny room. Smaller than most restrooms. Grillby walked into it, confused. It was completely empty, nothing inside whatsoever. He turned around to leave only to notice the buttons on the wall.

Oh. It was an elevator. 

Only one additional floor was listed, so he pressed the button for it. The door swept shut and without warning as the elevator shot down at breakneck speed. Grillby crammed himself into the corner, trying to keep the brunt of the force off of Sans. It felt like the floor had disappeared underneath them. 

They finally hit the bottom. It took a moment to regain any strength in his legs, but as soon as he did he was out the door. Whereas the main floor was too bright, this area was underlit. He had to strain to see very far in front of him. After looking around he decided to go left first, investigating everything as he went. 

The hallway seemed to go on forever, even bending to the right at one point. He broke out into a sprint before reaching a large annex. There was what appeared to be a hospital bed in the middle, along with some cabinets and a sink. Grillby did a quick overview, trying to figure out the best way to search it all. It was only then that he realized that it would be far more efficient if he could use both of his hands.

He tensed, not ready to let Sans go just yet but...he had to. He couldn’t let anything slow him down. Not even Sans himself.

Carefully, he laid the boy on the hospital bed. The imagery only seemed to make his condition look worse, like a child truly on their deathbed. His bones were no longer a pure white, dulled by the strain his body was going through. The badge around his neck hung off the side of the bed, like it was threatening to drag him down. Grillby tenderly wiped off whatever that red stuff near Sans’ mouth was, then forced himself to look away. To not pay any mind to the way his soul felt like it was breaking into pieces. He wouldn’t be able to save Sans that way.

Nothing in this room looked like medicine, at least to Grillby’s knowledge. Mostly tools and medical equipment, and a few binders of handwritten notes. He ran a hand through the flames on his head, knowing he had to look elsewhere. There was only so many places it could be, he would have to happen upon it eventually.

If there was still any here that is.

He picked one of the new doorways, surely with some sort of logic behind it but at this point it hardly felt like it. Racing through all the rooms, he found nothing of use. Ventilation systems, a shower, and an entertainment room. There was a larger area that had something big suspended from the wall but it was too dark to clearly make out - and obviously not medicine - so he let it be. 

That just left one room in this hall. It had a line of refrigerators on one side, and that seemed to be the first promising thing he had found so far. He did recall that certain medications needed to be kept at low temperatures, maybe it was the same for this one? He opened them all, one by one, finding different specimens and unidentified liquids. He would figure that a medication for Sans would be labeled as such, and he wasn’t going to just start pumping the kid with any random thing he found. He wasn’t that desperate, not when that could easily make the situation irreparably worse.

He shut the door to the last refrigerator, stepping back and allowing himself to take the shortest of breaths. Since there was nothing concrete here, he would have to go back and investigate the two other paths he hadn’t travelled down yet. Even so, it was feeling like his possibilities were growing slimmer. If the medicine wasn’t down here, where would it even be? This did seem to be the home that Sans and even Papyrus had talked about. Papyrus said it was at home. Why couldn’t he find it here?

Suddenly the room felt cold. Colder than it had before. A static tone started permeating the air, making Grillby’s flames grow fitful. He recognized this feeling, this terror building in his gut as the noise seemed to flood inside of him. It had been just like this back in Waterfall, after talking with the unnatural monster child. Back when it felt like there was some presence behind him that had not been there earlier.

Just like it felt now. 

He shivered, soul beating so quickly it was a miracle it wasn’t bursting already. No. Not now. He couldn’t afford to let whatever this was deter him now. Sans needed him, and that thought alone was enough to fill him with the courage he needed. 

A deep breath, then he turned around.

That courage within him stuttered.

_ “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I hecked up Hotland and The True Lab too sorry. I tried to make them as similar as possible haha but I realized I had made a weird description around chapter 2 about where the 'lab' was, trying to be vague, without really understanding Hotland's routes. Oh well. If that's the one bit I mess up with the canon that's all I care haha


	22. The Doctor Can See You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A challenger approaches!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi this took forever again and I'm am entirely unhappy with its weird tone shifts, exposition puking, and pacing issues - at least in the second half. First half I'm okay with? And I'm only a little frustrated because this chapter kinda is the concept that made me want to write this whole thing in the first place but... anyways, thanks for sticking with this I'm much more excited for the next chapter (although I think I said this last time??). All your kudos and comments really brighten my day and we are so close to the end. only like 4ish chapters left.

Oozing. Sludging. Leaking.

Grillby couldn’t decide on a word that really describe what was looming before him. Its body, if you could even call it that, was an amorphous blob, constantly writhing and seeping, the deepest black he had ever seen. So dark it almost seemed to be sucking Grillby in, making the room feel even colder. Two hands hovered nearby, and on top was what could loosely be called a head. A pale round face with a crooked mouth and two misshapen eye sockets. A crack sliced above one and below the other, the inky blackness dripping from the crevices.

Grillby thought he could feel the substance boiling inside of him.

_ “YOU KNOW YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE.” _

There was no voice, no sound to indicate speech aside from a distant screech cutting through the static. And yet Grillby could understand the being clearly.

Symbols were hanging in the air around it, piecing themselves together and dissolving once Grillby read them, almost like a puff of smoke. To anyone else it would probably look like gibberish, random unrelated imagery of hands and flags but Grillby knew. He had studied this writing extensively and could read it almost as quickly as common. 

The creature was communicating in Wing Dings.

That itself should have shocked Grillby, but he was more taken aback by what was being said.

_ “ITS TRESPASSING! AND ON GOVERNMENT PROPERTY? DO YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF FINE THAT WILL INCUR? NOT TO EVEN MENTION THE DANGEROUS EQUIPMENT AND CHEMICALS DOWN HERE! ARE YOU AN IDIOT OR SOMETHING?”  _ It seemed to shake its head a bit, or as much as it could with the lack of a solid body.  _ “NOW SHOO. GO ON. I’M A TERRIFYING ABOMINATION AND YOUR FIGHT OR FLIGHT INSTINCTS SHOULD HAVE KICKED IN BY NOW. RUN ALONG.” _

Grillby stared dumbly as the creature waved its hands in what was probably supposed to be a menacing manner, showing off the prominent holes in each palm. Part of him was still frozen to the spot, struggling to reason with the unnatural form and the disorienting noise accompanying it. Wanting desperately to take the advice and just leave. And yet, he could feel himself calming down a bit. The Wing Dings and the creature itself were contradicting each other. Somehow it wasn’t quite as threatening as it was before.

_ “HOW DID YOU EVEN GET DOWN HERE ANYWAYS? THE LOCKS WERE STILL IN PLACE AS FAR AS I COULD TELL…”  _ A pause.  _ “SERIOUSLY NOW, YOU SHOULD REALLY LEAVE. THERE IS NOTHING GOOD FOR YOU HERE.” _

“...I can’t…” Grillby rasped out, struggling to even recall why he was here in the first place. 

_ “OH, OF COURSE YOU CAN. IT’S REALLY RATHER SIMPLE. TAKE THE ELEVATOR UP AND LEAVE. I CAN CHASE YOU ALL THE WAY THERE IF THAT WOULD BE EASIER FOR YOU.”  _

The creature leaned forward, as if it were ready to lunge at any moment. Grillby flinched instinctively, but even that couldn’t get him to move. No, not until his task was complete. Not until he could find what he had been searching so desperately for. Not until Sans was safe again. 

Sans. That was right. This was all about Sans.

Maybe this thing knew something that could help him. It would get him out of the facilities faster, which seemed to be the only thing it was concerned about anyways - despite the attempts at scaring him off there was no true harmful intent that he could sense. If he could explain himself they could potentially work this whole thing out.

He pointed shakily toward the refrigerator, trying to push his jumbled thoughts back together. “...need medicine.”

Well. Great. Good job, Grillby. 

_ “...OH STARS ABOVE, YOU REALLY ARE AN IDIOT, AREN’T  YOU?” _

Yup. That pretty much summed up how he was feeling right now.

“N-No...I can’t...I can’t leave without it…” Grillby fumbled. He could feel his frustration rising. Why did communicating verbally need to be so difficult, especially when he needed it most? It was like every idea and concept he was trying to convey split into pieces as soon as he tried to verbalize it. 

_ “IF YOU DON’T LEAVE, I CAN’T GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY. DO YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF DEATH WISH OR SOMETHING?”  _

Grillby nearly laughed, shaking his head insistently. He wasn’t entirely sure why he found it so funny. Maybe it was just the fact that this whole conversation - the whole situation, really - seemed utterly ridiculous now. 

_ “WELL THEN, I CAN’T FATHOM WHY ELSE YOU WOULD BE SO-”  _ The creature stopped, blinking its uneven sockets slowly.  _ “CAN YOU...UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING?”  _

Grillby nodded, finally confident in his own conclusions as well. “...Dr. Gaster?”

The entity recoiled a bit, shock written all over its face. Question marks popped up all around in rapid succession until it leaned closer, squinting a bit. 

_ “...WAIT...I KNOW YOU...THE FIRE MAN. YOU’RE THE ONE WHO…”  _

It froze, pupils shrinking. The black substance started convulsing more wildly as thought after thought suddenly appeared in the air, filling up almost every visible space in Grillby’s line of sight. They were so fast he could only catch snippets of them, the rapid motion making him dizzy and the context of the messages entirely unreadable - but that was okay. They didn’t seem to be for him anyways.

_ “...NO IT CAN’T…” _

_ “...DIDN’T KNOW, COULDN’T SEE…” _

_ “...TIME WILL…” _

_ “...DIDN’T  _ YOU  _ TELL ME!?” _

_ “...HERE TOGETHER…” _

_ “...TOO LATE…” _

_ “...NOT  _ YOU _ …” _

_ “...NEEDED MEDICINE.” _

_ “...HOW TO ADMINISTER…” _

_ “...SANS…” _

_ “...SANS.” _

_ “SANS!!”  _

Before Grillby could even process the movement the being was mere inches in front of his face, its inky body threatening to spill over onto his shoes.

_ “WHERE IS MY SON!?” _

If Grillby had any doubts about who this…‘thing’ was, they were gone now.

He didn’t have clear memories of leading Dr. Gaster through the hallways, his legs relying entirely on unconscious efforts while his mind took a well deserved break. Or, well, as much as a break he could have while still being in the midst of the longest panic attack of his life. It was like his thoughts had just shut off, leaving only the terror and anxiety behind to make his steps faster than usual. That was okay. They all came racing back as soon as he was by the bed in the large room.

It was hard for Grillby to look right at Sans, the sight of the boy so still and empty threatening to overwhelm him. Instead, he turned to Dr. Gaster, who had stopped in his tracks a few feet away. The deformed monster - if you could even call him that - was staring at the child, his outline continuing to shake nervously. His hands floated forward then stopped sharply, like strings had been pulled taut. A blink, accompanied by a strange noise that almost sounded like an exhale. 

_ “ATTACH THE SOUL MONITOR SENSORS TO HIS ARM. QUICKLY.” _

Grillby barely had time to see the holed hands point to the corner of the room before Dr. Gaster appeared to fall into himself, the sludgy mass of his body sucking him into a puddle as he sank into the floor. In less than a second the splash of goo seeped into the cement and then it was gone. No tar-like substance. No static. No Wing Dings. Nothing. Vanished right before his eyes.

As fascinating as the sight was, Grillby couldn’t even muster the effort to wonder or even care. So much had happened that defied explanation and yet he could still only focus on one thing; and now that he had a task to do, he found adrenaline pumping through him once again.

He rushed over to the corner of the room, finding a wheeled monitor just like Dr. Gaster had indicated and racing back to the bedside. Although he had never used one of these he had seen how Dr. Cottontail had set it up before. With as much care as he could he rolled back Sans’ sleeve, wincing at the dampness he could only hope was sweat. This much sweat wouldn’t be that great of a sign either, though. 

In less than a minute the sensors were placed and the monitor started displaying information. Beeps and graphs and numbers that all meant nothing to Grillby. All a bunch of nonsense. At least it seemed to give all of its data calmly; he knew if Sans’ condition went critical it would do anything but. 

There was a rush of sound and suddenly Dr. Gaster was next to him, the few features he had slowly reforming from the sludge. He threw something at Grillby - which the elemental miraculously was able to catch - before slinking back sharply, keeping a berth between himself and the bed. 

_ “ALRIGHT, GIVE HIM THIS.” _

Grillby looked down at his hand. In it was a syringe filled with a vibrant red liquid, the color fuller than Grillby had ever seen. There was no safety precautions to keep him from pricking himself, but then again needles tended to melt before piercing through what would be considered an elemental’s skin. Maybe Dr. Gaster had taken that into account. Or maybe he had just been too rushed to even consider proper procedures. Then again...why was Grillby the one who had to do this at all, when Dr. Gaster was undoubtedly more qualified? 

None of that mattered. This was it. This was the medicine. It was right here in his grasp. He bit back a relieved laugh as he pushed Sans’ sleeve up further so he could administer the concoction in what television and movies had taught him was the right spot. 

It was only then that he noticed the marks near the boy’s shoulder. The tell-tale signs of regular injections. Of what the Guard could only determine to be one thing: abuse. 

Of the very thing Grillby could be doing right now.

No. He let the tension that was building up fade away. He had decided long ago that that wasn’t the case. That Sans had been telling the truth. He wasn’t going to let doubts in that hinder him now. Not when so much depended on his actions.

He lined the needle up to one of the small holes and pushed the plunger, praying that he wasn’t wrong.

When it was done he placed the empty syringe on a tool tray, taking a step back to survey everything. Almost immediately his heart sank. Sans didn’t look any different, barely breathing and bones shimmering with that abnormal wetness. Somewhere deep inside Grillby knew medicine didn’t usually work that quickly, but his expectations had still been unrealistically high. The medicine was supposed to fix everything right away. Now that it wasn’t clear what it was doing, how was Grillby supposed to react?

Instead of relying on his own flawed instincts he turned to the one person in the room who had even a basic understanding of what was going on.

To his surprise, Dr. Gaster looked calm. Near giddy, actually. His eyelights were fixed on the numbers on the monitor, which still meant nothing to Grillby. 

_ “WOWIE, THAT WAS CERTAINLY FRIGHTENING FOR A MOMENT!”  _ He gestured nonchalantly, turning his attention to Grillby.  _ “YOU FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS WELL - THOUGH, NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, IT MIGHT JUST BE THE SHOCK KEEPING YOU FROM QUESTIONING WHAT I’M ASKING YOU TO DO. TELL ME, DO YOU FEEL LIKE YOU’RE DISSOCIATING?”  _

Grillby had no idea what he was talking about. He looked back at Sans, desperate to see any sort of improvement. 

_ “HE’S FINE, FIRE MAN,”  _ Dr. Gaster assured, his Wing Dings floating over into Grillby’s line of sight.  _ “OPTIMAL, EVEN, CONSIDERING HOW LONG HE’S GONE WITHOUT A DOSE. HIS STATS ARE STABLE AND WE SHOULD SEE THEM EVENING BACK UP TO NORMAL IN NO TIME.”  _

That was good. This was all good, right? Grillby supposed he could be convinced of it if someone could finally explain to him what was actually going on. Until then he was stuck in some Schrodinger's  nightmare, where everything felt wrong and right at the same exact time. He forcefully turned himself from the boy, knowing that obsessively searching for signs would just throw him into more of a fretful fit. 

_ “NOW, I’M SURE YOU HAVE SOME  _ BURNING  _ QUESTIONS.”  _ Grillby could swear he saw the sliver of a mouth curve into a grin.  _ “IT WILL BE FOR THE BEST IF YOU KNOW THE WHOLE STORY, SO YOU WON’T DO SOMETHING AS HOTHEADED AS DASHING ALL THE WAY TO AN ABANDONED LABORATORY AGAIN.” _

At first Grillby didn’t know if he was reading the intent correctly, but then it became all too clear: puns. They were in a dark and musty basement with an incredibly ill child and Dr. Gaster was making puns. It seemed ridiculous and off putting and yet it made all the sense in the world. In this very moment he couldn’t help but see Sans in the doctor’s actions, the ease at which the wordplay came out, the smug smile after the fact because they knew exactly what it was they just did. 

_ “LET’S START WITH WHAT YOU ALREADY KNOW: YES, YOU ARE CORRECT. I AM IN FACT DR. W. D. GASTER. ROYAL SCIENTIST. INVENTOR. GENIUS. ALL THAT THAT ENTAILS.” _ He waved his hand back and forth, as if all of this was no big deal.  _ “FROM WHAT I’VE READ OF SANS’ RECORDINGS HE DID A FINE JOB OF WRITING DOWN THE DETAILS OF OUR LIFE. OR WELL...WHAT HE KNEW, ANYWAYS.” _

“You...read Sans’ notebook?” Grillby asked, his voice sounding strangely distant. 

_ “OF COURSE I HAVE! ONCE I REALIZED HE STILL REMEMBERED I NEEDED TO - WELL, THAT’S GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF. I DON’T WANT TO CONFUSE YOU ANY FURTHER. LET’S START AT THE BEGINNING - A VERY GOOD PLACE TO START.” _

He paused, looking over at Sans and then backing up slowly. He almost appeared concerned, but not because of the position the boy was in.

_ “SANS WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE SANS. HE WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE A CHILD, THAT IS. I WAS DESIGNING A WEAPON - OR SO I THOUGHT. BUT APPARENTLY INTRODUCING A PART OF MY BODY AND SOUL INTO THE EQUATION CHANGED EVERYTHING. WHO’D’VE THOUGHT?”  _

This took Grillby aback. The idea that Sans wasn’t born naturally hadn’t ever occurred to him. He had never heard of children being made in this fashion - by experimental chance that is. This brought up more questions than it did answers but Grillby decided to leave them be. The specifics of Sans’ creation wasn’t really that important, and he knew that the science behind it would sound like a different language anyways.

He was having a difficult enough time keeping up with the stream of Wing Dings on their own.

Dr. Gaster rubbed his fingers over the hole in his left hand.  _ “IN HINDSIGHT IT ALL MAKES SENSE BUT I WAS SO DESPERATE TO BREAK THE BARRIER I WILL ADMIT THAT LOGIC WAS THE LEAST OF MY CONCERNS. AS SOON AS I SAW THAT LITTLE FACE LOOKING UP AT ME THOUGH...EVERYTHING CHANGED. I SUPPOSE YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND THAT SENTIMENT.” _

Yes. Grillby understood that well. Very well. So well in fact that hearing Dr. Gaster explain it suddenly made him nervous. In all the hubbub he had somehow managed to forget who this individual really was. This was the man Sans had talked about so fondly, the one written about at length, the father so kind and perfect that Grillby had felt compelled to try and remove him from the boy’s memory. That last part wasn’t really fair, but he’d be lying if it hadn’t been a factor in his decision to get rid of the notebook. 

Now that monster was standing in front of him. He was real. And, as far as he could tell, accurate to Sans’ portrayal of him. What would Grillby do now that the children’s real father was here? Now that his own role was ultimately redundant?

The answer was simple. He would do what was best for the two of them. Regardless of what that would do to him. He had resigned himself to that fate when he had decided to help Sans with his research.

He just hadn’t expected it to happen this soon.

_ “WHEN DESIGNING SANS I HADN’T...WELL, AGAIN, HE WASN’T SUPPOSED TO LAST. HE WAS CREATED TO CONTAIN A LOT OF MAGIC AND ONLY BE USED ONCE. THERE WAS ONLY ONE BARRIER TO DESTROY, AFTER ALL. THIS WAS FINE FOR A WEAPON BUT FOR A CHILD…”  _ He gesticulated wildly and then slumped his shoulders.  _ “IT BECAME APPARENT THAT HIS BODY COULDN’T HANDLE THE IMPRESSIVE AMOUNT OF MAGIC INSIDE OF HIM. I HAD HIM SHELTERED...TAUGHT HIM AT HOME AND KEPT HIM FROM ANYTHING THAT MIGHT ACCIDENTALLY DUST HIM. I KNEW THAT THAT WAS ONLY A SHORT TERM SOLUTION, THOUGH, SO….I...HEH...I, UM…” _

Dr. Gaster put his hands up to the side of his face as he started to laugh lightly. It was a strange sound, like the static was hiccuping around them. Grillby could easily tell there was no mirth behind it.

_ “I MADE SOMETHING TO USE TO FIX HIM, TO GIVE HIM THE BODY HE NEEDED.” _

He looked at Grillby, his sockets filled with painful regret.

_ “I MADE PAPYRUS.” _

It took a second for Grillby to understand the implications of that sentence, but it was enough for his flames to momentarily flare up.

_ “GRANTED I ENDED UP MAKING MOST OF THE SAME MISTAKES AGAIN. HE ENDED UP BEING SO MUCH... _ MORE _ THAN I COULD HAVE EVER PREDICTED. IT WAS LIKE HE WAS NEEDED ALL THIS TIME AND SOME GREATER FORCE WAS ABLE TO TURN MY MISGUIDED GOALS INTO SOMETHING THAT FILLED A HOLE IN BOTH SANS’ LIFE AND MINE. WHEN...WHEN IF EVERYTHING HAD GONE THE WAY I HAD INTENDED...HE WOULDN’T BE ANYTHING MORE THAN MATERIALS.” _ He paused, turning away, his right hand clenched.  _ “SOMETIMES IT'S HARD TO LOOK AT HIM WITHOUT REMEMBERING THAT…” _

Grillby felt sick. Sicker than he felt before. Imagining a world without Papyrus, where Papyrus wasn’t meant to exist, where Papyrus was nothing more than an empty shell to save Sans - it made him want to expel any of the magic left in his stomach. There was no way to understate how important Papyrus was. How he lit up the room with his smile. How he relentlessly helped and supported others. 

A world without Papyrus was not a world Grillby could fathom living in.

_ “OBVIOUSLY MY PLANS CHANGED, ALL FOR THE BETTER. THANKFULLY MY POSITION GAVE ME ACCESS TO TOOLS AND RESOURCES THAT I WOULDN’T HAVE OTHERWISE - NAMELY, THOSE OF THE HUMAN VARIETY.”  _ He motioned to the syringe on the tool table.  _ “THAT’S AN ESSENCE I MANAGED TO SYNTHESIZE FROM ONE OF THE HUMAN SOULS IN OUR CUSTODY. HUMANKIND IS SO MUCH STRONGER THAN MONSTERS, AND THE DT FROM THEM STABILIZES SANS WHEN HIS MAGIC OVERWHELMS HIM.” _

A blink.

_ “THAT’S WHAT I DECIDED TO CALL IT ANYWAYS. DT. DOESN’T REALLY MEAN ANYTHING. I JUST THOUGHT IT SOUNDED COOL.”  _ He shrugged.  _ “I’VE BEEN MONITORING HIS IMPROVEMENT AND I THINK HE’S ABSORBED ENOUGH OF THE SUBSTANCE THAT HE SHOULD BE ABLE TO SUSTAIN HIMSELF WITHOUT IT THOUGH. HE STILL NEEDS TO WATCH THAT HE DOESN’T OVERDO IT...”  _ Dr. Gaster sighed, smiling warmly over at the bed.  _ “HE LIKES TO PUSH HIMSELF TO HIS LIMITS. YOU’VE SEEN THAT FIRST HAND.” _

Too many times for his own comfort, Grillby would add.

_ “WELL, THAT PRETTY MUCH SUMS IT ALL UP! THE WHOLE UN-DOCTORED TRUTH.”  _ Gaster nodded to himself.  _ “I MEAN I COULD GO INTO MORE DETAIL, IF YOU REALLY WANTED TO, BUT…” _

Grillby just stared at the doctor incredulously. No. That did not really sum it all up. There was a lot more he needed to know, more obvious things he needed to know. He made a show of looking up and down Dr. Gaster’s oozing body, wishing he had eyebrows that he could raise.

Dr. Gaster tilted his head before peering down at himself.  _ “...OH. OH! YES. SILLY ME. I SUPPOSE THIS DOES REQUIRE A LITTLE BIT OF EXPLANATION…” _

No, really? 

_ “I...HEH. APOLOGIES. THE PAST IS SIMPLE TO KEEP STRAIGHT BUT...EVERYTHING AFTER IS EASILY JUMBLED.”  _ He shook his head, like he was getting himself back on track.  _ “SOMETHING WENT WRONG WITH THE CORE...EVEN...WELL EVEN NOW I’M STILL NOT SURE WHAT. EVERYTHING WAS GOING SO WELL AND THEN IT JUST...DIDN’T. STARS, AM I GLAD SANS WAS ABLE TO GET PAPYRUS AND HIM OUT OF THERE IN TIME. _

_ “MY COLLEAGUES AND I WEREN’T SO LUCKY. WE...WELL, THE EASIEST WAY TO DESCRIBE IT IS WE FELL IN. INTO THE CORE. IT'S MORE COMPLICATED THAN THAT AND I CAN’T EVEN SAY IF I FULLY UNDERSTAND IT. BUT THE PROCESS LITERALLY RIPPED US APART AND DISPERSED US OUT OF THE UNIVERSE TO THE INBETWEEN. IT SEEMS THAT IN ORDER TO HEAL THE CRACKS IN THE TIMELINE THAT THAT CAUSED...THE ONLY WAY WAS TO PURGE OUR CODE, SO TO SPEAK.”  _ Another pause.  _ “DOES THAT MAKE SENSE TO YOU?” _

Not...not really. “...well…”

_ “WE DON’T EXIST ANYMORE. AND WE NEVER DID EXIST. THE UNIVERSE ITSELF IS REJECTING ANY INFORMATION PERTAINING TO US - SOMEHOW WITHOUT AFFECTING ANY ACHIEVEMENTS WE LEFT BEHIND. THE CORE WILL STILL STAND BUT NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW WHO BUILT IT.” _

“Except Sans,” Grillby thought aloud.

_ “YES...I ATTRIBUTE THAT TO THE DT. ITS SOMEHOW LETTING HIM CLING ON TO THE IDEA OF ME DESPITE EVERYONE ELSE FORGETTING. EVEN THEN...IT REQUIRES CONSTANT EFFORT AND REMINDERS...AS YOU CLEARLY SAW YOURSELF.” _

The notebook. Grillby felt the familiar guilt and shame rising up inside of him. And yet, Dr. Gaster’s gaze didn’t seem judgemental or angry. In fact, it was hard to read how he felt about it.

“...Sans told me about you...and I never felt like I was forgetting anything…” Grillby said, realizing that for the first time. If the timeline was literally getting rid of information about the doctor, wouldn’t Grillby have forgotten at one point or another?

_ “YOU NEVER KNEW ME ON A PERSONAL LEVEL. YOU MIGHT HAVE HEARD MY NAME IN PASSING, OR SEEN ME ONCE OR TWICE ON THE NEWS. WHEN SANS PRESENTED THE CONCEPT OF MY EXISTENCE TO YOU, THE THOUGHTS YOU FORMED ABOUT ME WEREN’T ABOUT THE TRUE ME. THEY WERE ABOUT THE CONCEPT YOU INVENTED IN YOUR MIND. THE TIMELINE WAS ONLY CONCERNED WITH THE LITERAL ME THAT HAD BEEN TORN INTO PIECES.” _

“Then how are you here now?” Grillby said, finally getting to the real elephant in the room.

_ “I’M NOT.” _

Grillby still really wanted those eyebrows.

_ “WELL, I’M NOT REALLY. ONLY A PART OF ME IS HERE AND EVEN THEN ITS A SHODDY COPY. EVERYTHING ELSE IS IN THE IN BETWEEN, IN THE VOID, AS IT WERE.”  _ He waved his hands around, almost as if he could see this reality he was talking about surrounding him right now. And, considering what he was saying, maybe he could. _ “THE SPACE BETWEEN SPACES. WHERE EVERYTHING IS AND ISN’T CONCURRENTLY. WITH ALL THE OTHER GASTERS.” _

“The other…?”

_ “SANS EXPLAINED MULTIPLE WORLD THEORY TO YOU? ABOUT HOW OTHER UNIVERSES EXIST PARALLEL TO OURS?” _

Grillby nodded slowly. 

_ “FOR THE MOST PART THESE OTHER WORLDS CONTAIN THE SAME SET OF BASE VARIABLES. THE SAME CHARACTERS - SO THERE ARE VERSIONS OF ME, YOU, AND EVERY OTHER MONSTER LITTERED THROUGHOUT THEM. I’VE YET TO SEE ANOTHER REALITY SANS A SANS OR PAPYRUS.” _

Grillby did his best to not let this information overwhelm him. The thought of more than one of him in different situations, different environments...he could barely picture it. Had he made the same mistakes there? Had the children found their way into his life? Was his family on the surface still alive?

The doctor traced one of the scars on his face.  _ “IT'S A FOREGONE CONCLUSION...A...A FIXED POINT, YOU COULD SAY, FOR A GASTER TO TRAP HIMSELF IN THE VOID. NO MATTER WHAT HE ALWAYS FALLS INTO HIS OWN CREATION. HE’LL ALWAYS ADD TO THE EVER GROWING CONSCIOUSNESS.”  _

He started laughing like before, the noise echoing in a way that made Grillby shudder.

_ “SORRY. THAT’S THE HARDEST PART, YOU SEE. FIGHTING FOR MYSELF. IT'S SO EASY TO JUST...GET LOST IN IT ALL. TO EVEN START FORGETTING MYSELF. SINCE WE ALL ARE ESSENTIALLY THE SAME PERSON, THE SAME CODE, WE SORT OF...MERGE, UPON ENTERING THE VOID.” _ His face set suddenly, any hint of levity broken.  _ “WE ARE NOT THE SAME PERSON THOUGH. MANY OF US ARE...VERY MUCH NOT THE SAME. THE THINGS THAT WE HAVE DONE…” _

He closed his eyes, and for the first time since he met him Grillby noticed just how tired the monster in front of him looked. Even now it was like he was struggling to keep a hold of his form, the sludge leaking onto the floor as he sunk slowly. 

_ “THE VOID OFFERS VIEWS INTO THE TIMELINES BUT ITS ALL OF THEM. AT ONCE. IT CAN BE HECTIC TO TRY AND PARSE THE INFORMATION MEANT FOR YOU, EASY TO LOSE YOURSELF IN ALL THE DIFFERENT EXPERIENCES AND THOUGHTS WHIRLING AROUND AT EVERY MOMENT. THANKFULLY, IF I STORE UP ENOUGH OF MY OWN ENERGY, THE MAGIC SPECIFIC TO ME, THE ACTUAL ME FROM THIS TIMELINE...I CAN VISIT, AS MUCH AS THIS COUNTS AS A VISIT. IT'S THE ONLY TIME WHERE I CAN REALLY GRASP ONTO MY OWN INDIVIDUALITY AND...IT'S THE CLOSEST THING TO PEACE I GET NOWADAYS.”  _ He smiled softly.  _ “I TRY TO TAKE ADVANTAGE AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.” _

Grillby couldn’t say he understood it all completely - there were concepts he was struggling to reconcile with his simple knowledge of the world around him - but he did know one thing. Dr. Gaster’s current situation was a mess, the kind of mess that was hard to wrap your head around. The kind that seemed nearly impossible to weather through.

Looking at the monster now, all Grillby could feel was pity. 

There was just one thing that didn’t click. “If you can come here, then why haven’t you visited the boys?” 

_ “I WOULD - OH STARS, I WOULD-  BUT YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND, ITS NOT SAFE FOR THEM. EVEN BEING THIS CLOSE TO SANS...I’M AFRAID I MIGHT-” _

Any further explanation was quickly cut off by chaotic beeping. The monitor. Grillby caught a smear of the red screen as he whipped around. 

His heart stopped.

Sans was breathing now. Gasping would be a better word for it, almost like he was drowning on dry ground. His body was seizing up repeatedly, eyes wide and flashing blue and yellow nonstop, the red liquid Grillby now knew was DT splattering near his mouth. The sweat was pouring from his bones, dripping onto the ground in little white puddles-

Grillby froze, staring at the splotches of white on the floor. That wasn’t sweat. It was too opaque, too thick to be sweat.

Oh stars.

Sans was  _ melting _ .

None of this made sense. Didn’t Dr. Gaster just say the medicine was stabilizing him? Wasn’t this the opposite of stabilizing? Maybe he just didn’t understand. Maybe this was how the process worked, and Sans would be better after a small hiccup.

Grillby turned to the doctor to only have his fears confirmed: this wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Dr. Gaster was staring at his son, hazy pupils small as pinpoints, his form shaking and the static shrieking. The Wing Dings were aggressively filling the air, overlapping and as difficult to read as before.

_ “...HAPPENING…” _

_ “...DT…” _

_ “...MONSTERS…” _

_ “...‘DETERMINATION’?” _

_ “...YOU NEVER…” _

_ “...MAGIC LEVELS…” _

_ “...NO.” _

_ “NO.” _

_ “...CAN’T…” _

_ “...I CAN’T!!” _

_ “...I-” _

His eyelights blinked out, leaving empty black pits. He sagged toward the floor, nearly turning into a puddle himself. It didn’t last long. In a flash, light filled his sockets again, crisper than before. He shot back up, straightening himself.

_ “I APOLOGIZE. I GOT A LITTLE OVERWHELMED THERE.” _

“He...he’s dying!” Grillby cried, the realization nearly taking the strength out his legs. “We have to do something!”

_ “AND WE WILL. OR, WELL, YOU WILL AT LEAST.” _

He was so relaxed and collected now, his body no longer vibrating violently, the words he was speaking hanging gently around him. It was in clear contrast to the panic he was in just seconds ago.

_ “NOW THIS IS TIME SENSITIVE, SO YOU HAVE TO DO EXACTLY AS I TELL YOU. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” _

Grillby nodded

_ “VERY GOOD, GRILLBY.” _

He almost seemed amused. 

_ “I NEED YOU TO BREAK HIS EYE.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry Gaster is so inconsistent also i've been waiting eagerly for so long to introduce him because everyone had such wildly different ideas of who he would be. He didn't really cooperate with me this chapter but next time I'll whip him into shape. if he doesn't fall apart on me haha


	23. Home Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now for something completely different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! I'm sorry this took over a month again - freelance has been busy and con season is starting back up. I hope you enjoy it! I think it goes a bit too fast at the end and I just...yeah. This chapter didn't exist in my head until a few months ago and I'm excited/nervous to see what you think haha. Its very different from all chapters preceding it.  
> Also thank you again for all the support! I got a ton of comments and views in the break between chapters and...you guys really are the best

The house was quiet.

Normally quiet was a good thing. It gave room to think. To relax and just breathe for once. If given the choice between a loud place or not he would pick the latter nearly every time.

Not now, though.

Papyrus did not like the quiet now.

Maybe it was the fact that nothing was ever truly silent. There was a hum of electricity that ran from the walls to every lightbulb, a sharp ticking as the clock’s hands mechanically kept the time. Drips from the leaky faucet in the kitchen. Pattering as fresh snow fell onto the roof. Those sounds were always there, always gnawing at the back of his mind, but they never bothered him like this. Usually there were other more comforting noises to drown them out, keep them at bay.

Now they were just constant reminders that there was no warm crackling fire or slippers squeaking on the floor anymore.

It was just Papyrus alone in the house with the deafening silence.

For a brief moment he couldn’t recall why it was like this. This wasn’t normal, something had to have happened. Then the acrid smell of smoke reached his nasal cavity, and it all came back at once. The machine and the bright light. Grillby holding onto him tightly. The basement feeling like it was collapsing around them. And the noise. The horrible, horrible noise. Tearing. Screaming. Enveloping.

Sans was lying on the floor in front of him, some sort of...slime leaking from his mouth and chest. The room was white and sparse and escalators led up to it and  _ he _ was coming up with the medicine, thank goodness they had caught it in time, though Sans probably wouldn’t be able to help with the experiments for a while, and then-

Papyrus blinked. The living room around him came into focus once more. Dimly lit. Television against the wall. Rug with a slightly off-white stain by the couch. Books piled on the chair. Home. His hands were curled around his ‘ears’, held taut like the rest of his body. When had he done that? He couldn’t remember moving his arms at all. What was going on again? Wasn’t he supposed to be doing something?

Ah. That was right. Call the Dogi. 

He walked over to the phone, dialing the number with effortless precision. He didn’t even have to look down at the buttons anymore, he knew it by muscle memory. He bet he could win the Underground phone dialing championship easy peasy. Maybe he would start that competition up one day. There was a distinct lack of phone and button-pressing related tournaments. This would easily satisfy both demographics. 

The handset rung several times, as Papyrus was accustomed to. He waited patiently, strumming his fingers against the wall. Then there was a click.

“(Hi, you’ve reached Dogaressa and Dogamy!)”

Papyrus held the receiver close to his mouth. “HI DOGARESSA! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I THINK DAD WANTS YOU-”

“(Unfortunately we can’t come to the phone right now! But please leave a message with your name and number and we’ll get back to you in two shakes of a dog’s tail! Thanks!)”

Huh. Papyrus had never heard this before. How could she answer to say all this if she couldn’t make it to the phone? Maybe she only had enough time to relay these instructions? She was a part of the royal guard, after all. That must keep her very busy.

Still, if she wanted him to leave a message then he’d leave a real good one.

He hung the receiver up and dashed into the kitchen to get some paper and a pencil. It took him awhile to think of what to say, and maybe he ended up asking too much about how her day went, but he figured he should be polite. Once it was done he signed his name and number and taped the letter up on the wall underneath the phone. There. Perfect.

...though there was the question of how she would see it. Maybe the phone had some sort of magic that could send it her way, like an e-mail? That surely had to be it.

Even so...it made him a little nervous. He wanted to make sure he did everything the right way, complete all the tasks that were given him. Anxiously, he wondered if he should try calling again to make sure the phone sent the message properly.  

Glass shattering along with a thud behind him broke any train of thought he had. 

He froze, the crashing noise echoing about in his head, then slowly turned around.

A blue monster was on the coffee table surrounded by shards of glass. The window behind her had a big jagged hole in it, a chilly draft already entering the room. She had landed in a sort of interesting position, one hand steadying herself on the table while the other was in the air, allowing her to lean forward a bit. Messy red hair covered most of her face, but as she looked up he could see her one visible eye widen in shock.

She whispered a word Papyrus had been told never to repeat.

“THAT’S NOT A VERY NICE THING TO SAY,” he reprimanded.

She cowered a bit. “...uh...I mean, ‘shoot’.”

Better.

“WHY DID YOU BREAK OUR WINDOW?” He asked. He didn’t even know who this person was. He felt like entering a room in such a dramatic way should only be reserved for close friends.

“...look, I didn’t realize anyone was going to be here...and I probably should have just tried the door...but I thought this would be cooler…” She stood up slowly, looking guiltily over at the unplanned entryway into the house. “...don’t worry, I’ll um… I’ll fix it, I guess. Just gotta…”

She raised up one of her hands, and suddenly a row of glowing blue spears shot up in the window frame. The magical constructs filled the opening, stopping the air from coming in as best as possible. The monster stood up slowly, struggling to keep the magic altogether and stay upright at the same time. 

It didn’t work.

She lost her balance, tumbling backwards and landing on the floor.

Another bad word.

“YOU REALLY SHOULDN’T…” Papyrus began, only to stop midway.

The monster shakily raised her arm, wincing at the splinters of glass sticking out of her skin. Oh no. Papyrus’ eyes widened, growing even larger as she started to pull the fragments out, grunting.

“NO, WAIT! STAY RIGHT THERE!” He insisted.

Before she even had a chance to reply he sped off to the kitchen, opening the cabinet where they kept their medical supplies. He returned with a package of bandaids, holding it out to her. These always worked to make him feel better when he bumped or scraped himself.

“Oh...thanks,” She said, taking it with her uninjured hand. “I’m Undyne, by the way.”

“I’M PAP- UH...THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He announced, adjusting his scarf and putting his hands on his hips.

“‘The Great Papyrus’, huh?” Undyne mused, yanking the glass out. “So does that make you a superhero or something?”

“EXACTLY!” He nodded adamantly.

Her eye sparkled. “Cool!”

He watched her work, enthralled. Undyne barely flinched as every piece was removed, leaving only small pink gashes behind. Bandaids were applied to the wounds, flashing with green healing magic. 

“DOES IT HURT?” He asked, watching as she rubbed the coverings and sighed.

“Nah, not really,” Undyne shrugged. “Had worse.”

He peered more closely, finally getting a good look at her. Undyne was taller than Sans, probably only a year or so older. Baggy, loose clothing, definitely not weather appropriate for Snowdin. Her hair was wild and matty, sticking up all over the place, even the bit that was held back in a ponytail. No shoes whatsoever. That was a safety hazard. He was surprised she hadn’t gotten any glass there either.

Although most of the left side of her face was covered in her hair, he could still catch a glimpse of something dark where her other eye should be. An eyepatch. Kind of like a pirate.

_ Cool _ .

There was still something he couldn’t quite figure out through observation. “ARE YOU A ROBBER? OR...UM…” 

Undyne stared at him. Her lips curled back, revealing large teeth as her mouth curved upwards. Papyrus shrunk away. Oh. He had made a mistake. She was mad at him. He shouldn’t have asked that. But he didn’t know and he didn’t want to say something wrong - and now he had done that anyways. He rubbed the front of his cape nervously. Maybe Undyne would yell at him. Or call him names, like at school. Or try and push him like Chilly, or-

Laugh. Undyne was laughing.

He didn’t know what to do, just watching as this strange new monster laughed loudly in the middle of his living room. None of this really made any sense to him. You laughed when you were happy, right? He thought she was mad? Could you laugh when you were mad?

“I’m sorry!” Undyne cackled, wiping at her eye. “I just...why would you have helped me if I was a robber?”

Papyrus frowned. “YOU WERE HURT.”

“Heh...okay, fair enough. But why would I care about fixing your window then?” She countered.

“...BECAUSE...YOU FELT BAD?”

“...hmmm...I guess that checks out?”

Papyrus frowned, still not sure that Undyne wasn’t angry. He studied her face for any sign but was only met with ambiguity. In his haste for reassurance his eyeline met hers, connecting for about half a second. He quickly looked away, breathing hitched. That had been a mistake. He wiped his hands on his pants, like it would somehow wipe away the feeling of wet eyeballs touching every part of him. It didn’t work, but it made it feel a little better. Let him calm down before Undyne even noticed anything was up.

“But nah. I’m not a robber. I’m actually uh...I guess you could say I’m running from some bad guys. They’ve been following me all the way from Waterfall, but I think I finally lost ‘em. Ran in here to lay low for a bit - I saw some people leaving so I thought it’d be empty,” Undyne explained.

“THEY’RE TRYING TO GET YOU!? WHAT HAPPENED?” Papyrus gasped, imagining all the sorts of villains that could be on her trail at this very moment. Maybe they all wore masks and struck from the shadows. Maybe they picked on kids littler than them. Maybe they - he could barely dare to consider it -  _ hated puzzles. _

“Well...y’see…” She stood up, ready to walk to the other side of the room, only to pause. “...do you have a broom or anything? I feel like I should clean this up.” She gestured at the glass still littered all over the floor.

Papyrus thought that was a good idea too, retrieving the tool for her right away.

Undyne gripped the broom like it was a weapon, sweeping so aggressively that Papyrus was surprised she was getting any work done. She kept missing fragments, forced to continuously redo the same areas in order to make a successfully neat pile - or, as neat as she could make it, anyways. It seemed really inefficient to go about it in that way, adding on minutes to what should be a pretty quick task.

At the same time, Papyrus couldn’t deny that all the fervor she put into it made her look really, really cool.

“So this bad guy - let’s call him the Hammer - he finds out I’ve been taking out other bad guys in the area, letting them know what’s what. He doesn’t like this and tries to warn me to stop...and maybe I broke his mailbox. Look, I didn’t know it would break so easily!” She huffed, adding some extra ‘oomph’ to her sweep. “He said he was going to use his Ground powers on me...which makes me trapped and keeps me from having fun for a long time. I couldn’t let him do that...so I ran.”

Papyrus was in awe. The more Undyne spoke, the more she seemed to grow in stature. She was tough. Confident. Powerful. Above all else: a hero. A real live hero had broken into his house. He couldn’t believe his luck!

“YOU CAN STAY HERE AS LONG AS YOU NEED TO!” He insisted. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS CAN KEEP YOU SAFE FROM THE HAMMER!”

“Ah, thanks dude!” Undyne said, showing her teeth again in what Papyrus could only now assume was a smile. It was definitely different from what he was used to. “So, whatcha doin’ here all by yourself anyways?”

The barrage of images and sounds started up again in Papyrus’ mind, threatening to overwhelm him once more. He clenched his teeth and did what he could to anchor himself to the present. Admire the sheen in Undyne’s hair. Catch a whiff of her salty, possibly sweaty, odor. Remind himself that it was no longer just him alone with the silence. 

“...SANS IS...UNWELL. DAD NEEDED TO TAKE HIM TO GET HIS MEDICINE,” He explained stiltedly. Realizing his dour tone, he decided to mask it up. “BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NOT WORRIED! I’M SURE THEY WILL BE HOME SOON AND EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY. IT’S NOT THE FIRST TIME THAT SANS HAS FALLEN ASLEEP LIKE THIS…”

It was quiet for a moment, neither of them saying anything. Papyrus could feel the little forced optimism he had mustered up already starting to slip.

“...and your dad just left you here? By yourself?” Undyne was looking at him, her uncovered eye squinting. “Aren’t you like...four, or something?”

“I’M ALMOST SEVEN!” Papyrus corrected indignantly. “AND DOGARESSA AND DOGAMY WERE SUPPOSED TO COME OVER BUT IT LOOKS LIKE THEY ARE BUSY…”

Undyne hummed a bit, holding her chin as she continued squinting at him. She sort of looked like she was trying to work out a puzzle, though Papyrus didn’t know what kind.

“...well then, that leaves us no choice…” She brightened, grinning wide. “We’re going to go out and explore!”

Papyrus blinked. “YOU MEAN...LEAVE THE HOUSE?”

“Well, I mean, I feel like we’d run out of things to explore in the house pretty fast,” Undyne replied, setting the broom by the coffee table. “Besides, I’ve never really been to Snowdin before. You have to know all the cool things to see, right?”

“BUT WHAT ABOUT THE HAMMER?” Papyrus asked.

“You said you could protect me, didn’t you?” She prompted.

“YES…” He admitted. “...BUT DAD TOLD ME TO STAY HERE.”

“And you did! For awhile! As long as we get back before he returns it won’t even be like you left,” she explained. “C’mon, it’d be fun!”

Papyrus shuffled in place. He really, really didn’t like the idea of disobeying his dad. Dad trusted him, was proud of him for always doing the right thing. He would probably be super disappointed with him if they did this. Papyrus didn’t know what he would do if dad was disappointed in him.

And yet…

No one had ever asked to spend time with him before. No one had ever seemed like they wanted to spend time with him before.

He might never get this chance again.

Papyrus shuffled over to the coat rack, grabbing one of dad’s coats, a pair of boots and his own hat, turning back to a confused Undyne.

“IF WE ARE GOING OUT YOU’RE GOING TO NEED A DISGUISE,” he informed, smiling. 

A few minutes later and Undyne was all bundled up, hair sticking out from underneath the hat. She fidgeted in the coat “Dang, this is hot. Your dad worried about keeping the heat in his bones or what?” 

Papyrus slipped on his own jacket. “HUH?”

“Oh, don’t you get it?” Undyne asked, walking over to the door. “Its a skeleton joke!”

“OH…” He frowned. “BUT DAD ISN’T A SKELETON.”

“He isn’t?” She turned back. “So your mom is then?”

“WE DON’T HAVE A MOM. IT'S JUST ME, SANS AND DAD.”

“...ohhh…” Undyne said, face growing pale. “...sorry. That was awkward. Um. Forget I asked.”

“THAT’S OKAY!” Papyrus insisted. Why was she so sheepish all of a sudden? Had he said something wrong again? “DAD MIGHT NOT BE A SKELETON, BUT HE’S STILL THE BEST DAD IN THE UNDERGROUND!”

“Heh, sounds right!” 

They walked outside, Papyrus carefully closing the door behind them. He looked around nervously, searching for any sign of a bad guy nearby. Undyne didn’t seem nearly as concerned, walking out into the snow, making it crunch loudly as she went. There wasn’t anyone nearby, so he supposed it was safe to continue on, but he was sure to stay vigilant as they went on. He wouldn’t let the Hammer get to Undyne. Not while he was here to keep her safe.

First stop was the town. Papyrus pointed out all the major sights - dad’s bar, the inn, the librarby. Undyne seemed fascinated by the Gyftmas tree. Apparently she had never seen one so tall before. Made sense. Papyrus didn’t remember seeing any trees at all in Waterfall. 

They passed the giant welcome sign to the town, Papyrus explaining everything they were about to see. “THERE ARE A LOT OF GUARD STATIONS THIS WAY - IF WE ARE LUCKY WE CAN SAY HELLO TO ONE OF THE DOG PATROL! THE GREAT PAPYRUS LIKES ALL THE DOGS HERE...WELL EXCEPT FOR ONE ANNOYING DOG. HE’S THE WORST!”

“What, did he chew on your bone or something?” Undyne asked, hands in her pockets.

“EXACTLY! ON SEVERAL BONES, IN FACT!”

“...that does sound annoying…”

“THE. WORST.” Papyrus shook his head, sighing. “IF WE GO FURTHER ALONG THERE IS A SNOWBALL GAME THAT’S REALLY FUN TO PLAY. THE FOREST ALSO HAS SOME PUZZLES, BUT THEY AREN’T THAT GOOD. THE GREAT PAPYRUS COULD DO BETTER IN MY SLEEP! I PROBABLY HAVE ALREADY!”

“They really still have puzzles here?” Undyne asked, scrunching her nose. “I thought that was just like...a Hotland thing?”

“HOTLAND HAS PUZZLES?” He asked, tilting his head. He seemed faintly aware of that but he couldn’t quite picture them. 

“Yeah, but they...kinda suck.” She stuck out her tongue. “Hotland in general sucks.”

Papyrus tried to remember Hotland. It was such a weird sensation. It was a fact that he had lived there, that he knew. For most of his life, even. But he couldn’t remember anything detailed about it. All he had left was emotions. Distress. Sadness. Loss? He wasn’t sure how really to define it, but he knew one thing for sure: he didn’t like the feeling. Not one bit.

“I...HATE HOTLAND TOO,” He agreed, nodding as if to confirm his conclusion. 

“It’s so overrated! And...and hot! Who wants to go somewhere that dries you out in like two seconds?” She ranted. “Then on top of that the vent puzzles are awful and - woah, wait, is that a bridge!? Over a deadly pit!?”

Before Papyrus even had a chance to answer, Undyne had run forward onto the bridge, leaning overtop of it to look at the chasm below. She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

“BE CAREFUL! IT’S A VERY LONG FALL!” He advised, following after her. Dad always made sure to make them go slow and steady if they crossed here. Even looking down from the safety of the bridge’s walls made Papyrus a little dizzy. It was hard to see the bottom.

“Yeah, and it’ll be even longer from up here!” Undyne announced, flashing him a grin as she hastily climbed on top of the bridge’s edge.

Papyrus froze. She was balancing herself on the narrow piece of stone, covered in snow and ice and who knows what else, keeping her hands out. The wind blew strong, and she had to quickly grab on to avoid losing the hat on her head. Her legs wobbled a bit, but then steadied out once more. She turned back to Papyrus triumphantly, only to laugh.

“You should see the look on your face! Its like you think something bad is going to-”

It was just like before, on the coffee table. She lost her footing.

Except this wasn’t a few inches to the floor.

It was several stories.

Papyrus felt his stomach lurch. He reached out his arm, desperate to grab her but knowing he wouldn’t make it in time. He wasn’t going to be able to help. He had lied when he said he would keep her safe, he-

Undyne wasn’t falling anymore.

Papyrus blinked. He could barely see the top of his hat sticking up from the other side of the bridge wall, but he could still see it. And it was staying in place. After a second or two, Undyne’s head popped up, smiling wide.

“Nice one with the bone ledge! I wouldn’t have thought of something that fast!” She said, slowly pulling herself over to the safe part of the structure. 

The...the bone ledge?

Papyrus stood on his tippy-toes and peered over where Undyne had just been. To his surprise, a makeshift floor of blue bones had sprouted out at the bottom of the bridge, not only covering the area that Undyne had fallen into, but also several feet to the right and left, just in case. Had he...done that? He didn’t even feel any magic being used. He wasn’t sure how it happened.

Then again, it wasn’t like he hadn’t used his magic unconsciously before.

Papyrus registered the odd sensation of pressure around his chest and suddenly he was whisked backward from the side of the bridge. Something warm was pressed up on him but he couldn’t really notice. There was a new texture rubbing back and forth against his skull and it was demanding every iota of his attention. His body went rigid. Scratching. Like a bunch of little pinecones sanding out his outer layer of bone. It was as if he could feel every individual scale as it chafed his head.

Dimly he could hear Undyne saying something excitedly, but he couldn’t quite make it out over the grating noise his skull was making. Or maybe that was him whining. He couldn’t tell.

She stopped, stepping back. As soon as her hand left his head he felt himself start to calm. Not fast enough. His fingers clutched his cape, smothering himself in the comforting cloth. The softness. The familiar threads. The faint smell of a safe, crisp fire.

He was better. He was good. 

Then he looked over at Undyne and realized exactly what had just happened. A feeling of dread filled him. He had had this happen before. Seen the way kids looked at him after a reaction like this. They didn’t want to be around him anymore. Maybe Undyne wouldn’t want to either.

Maybe he shouldn’t have got his hopes up this time.

“Sorry.”

Papyrus could hear Undyne loud and clear this time. He looked up at her, eyes wide.

“You aren’t a touchy-feely person, huh? I didn’t know.” She offered an apologetic look. “That was a pretty hard noogie too.”

“I-IT’S OKAY. IT JUST SURPRISES ME SOMETIMES AND...FEELS. A LOT,” he explained. “SOMETIMES I GET USED TO PEOPLE THOUGH AND IT FEELS JUST FINE!”

“Ah! Then I’ll just have to make that my goal!” Undyne announced. “And once you’re used to me I’ll surprise you with noogies all the time!”

Sometimes Papyrus had trouble understanding what people said. He had learned fast that the words they used didn’t always match with what they really meant, and each person was their own puzzle with what words meant what at what time. It made talking with people hard, and he was always questioning his own understanding. 

Here, though, he found it hard to interpret her declaration any other way. She was choosing to stick with him. She wasn’t going to push him away.

Papyrus struggled to keep a growing wetness in his eye sockets.

“C’mon, Papyrus! Didn’t you say something about a snowball game?” She asked, prompting him to cross to the other side of the ravine.

He ran after her, wondering if this is what it felt like to really have a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Undyne wasn't supposed to be here so learning how to write her on the fly was interesting haha. It also is one of the few instances that this fic breaks my own personal headcanon because I don't think Pap met her until closer to the events of the game but...a good friend suggested her show up to give this chapter more flair and she ended up highjacking it haha. It was either this or Pap trying to cheer himself up after all that soooo  
> Also I am not on the spectrum so if anything I wrote from Pap's perspective seems wrong let me know and maybe let me know how I can change it to make it feel more accurate - the last thing I want to do is misrepresent. 
> 
> Also it was just recently the one year anniversary of publication for this fic so I drew I silly little doodle to commemorate it : http://kaybdoodles.tumblr.com/post/173167722842/for-those-of-you-who-dont-knowi-have-a-very-self


	24. Stop. Hammer Time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dah-nah-nah-nah. nah-nah. nah-nah.
> 
> You can't touch this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this chapter was difficult to write for both subject matter reasons and perfectionist ones. But its done now. And just in time for Father's Day in the US (*cough* less than 2 minutes left in my time zone *cough*)! Huzzah!  
> I have a lot of new readers and have gotten so many kudos and nice comments in the past couple of days, thank you so much guys. Its this stuff that keeps me going, despite the difficult chapters.  
> Umm  
> Mind the new tags.  
> I'm sorry.  
> Happy Father's Day.

There had to be some sort of mistake.

Maybe he was reading the words wrong. Or perhaps his vision was off due to the shock. Or his glasses had fogged up. Or something. Anything. Any reason to explain this all away.

If he found the right answer perhaps this would all disappear and things would return to normal.

And yet the symbols continued to hang in the air in front of him, longer than usual, as if preventing him from ignoring them. Forcing him to face them and all that they implied.

_“I NEED YOU TO BREAK HIS EYE.”_

Grillby was in Hell.

And he had dragged a child down here too.

Dr. Gaster slithered along to the tool tray, wing dings finally dissolving as he looked over the tools. _“A DRILL WOULD BE EFFECTIVE, BUT IT MIGHT CAUSE UNNECESSARY DAMAGE. NEEDLE...TOO FRAGILE, TOO SMALL A SURFACE AREA- OH! A HAMMER! THAT WILL DO NICELY.”_

Although the doctor had no audible voice, there was still something giddy in his observations. The way the letters bounced as he spoke, his eyelights shining brighter than they had before.

Excited about harming his own child.

Grillby couldn’t even fathom how someone could ever feel that way. Not at all. Especially not someone Sans had written about so fondly. The one Grillby had met who, as soon as he had realized something was off, had demanded to find and save his son.

Wrong.

This was all wrong.

And then it clicked.

_“WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE, YOU IDIOT? TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE IF THE BOY IS TO SURVIVE.”_

Dr. Gaster must have turned toward Grillby at some point, but he hardly noticed. He was staring at the formless monster in front of him in horror, realization dawning on him as the monitor continued to shriek in the background.

“...you’re not him.”

His demeanor. His expression. The way he held himself. Even his word choice. All of this was a stark contrast to the person Grillby had been speaking to only minutes prior. If so much wasn’t going on right now maybe he would have noticed it sooner. Picked up on all the obvious signs.

Dr. Gaster’s sockets widened.

Then he grinned.

_“MAYBE NOT AN IDIOT AFTER ALL.”_

Grillby was barely able to catch the hammer that was thrown his way.

 _“YES, I’M AFRAID OUR DEAR DOCTOR HAD TO TAKE A LEAVE OF ABSENCE...MELTING UNDER THE PRESSURE, AS IT WERE,”_ the doctor mused, peering over at the medical bed. _“HARDLY THE ONLY EXAMPLE HERE RIGHT NOW.”_

Sans was dripping at an accelerated rate, breaths coming out as a wet gurgle. Red splattering out of his mouth. Literally falling apart before Grillby’s eyes.

Dying.

Stars above, Sans was dying.

He knew this already, but somehow that didn’t make the fact any less terrifying.

Grillby could barely keep a hold on his panicked thoughts. His world was crashing around him and the only thing he could do was watch. And hold on to the hammer.

 _“MONSTER BODIES CANNOT HANDLE DETERMINATION - NOT UNLESS IT IS ABSORBED INTO THEIR MAGIC SYSTEM. EVEN THEN IT'S EASY TO OVERDOSE, TO USE ENOUGH MAGIC THAT THE DETERMINATION SEEPS OUT REGARDLESS. AND THIS MESS HAPPENS.”_ The doctor was behind the bed, keeping a distance and yet still leaning in curiously, like he was barely holding himself back from lunging forward. _“EYES, ESPECIALLY FOR SKELETONS, HOLD A LARGE AMOUNT OF MAGIC. BREAK ONE AND THE EXCESS SHOULD BE EXPELLED, ALONG WITH THE ABUNDANCE OF DETERMINATION TIED TO IT.”_

This couldn’t be happening. This really couldn’t be happening.

He didn’t want to trust whatever version of the doctor this was, but did he really have a choice? The explanation for this procedure made sense, although Grillby was pretty sure he would attribute logic to anything spoken confidently in his current state of mind. Even so, if this monster really had ill intent, wouldn’t he have acted by now? Done something harmful to Sans during Grillby’s inaction?

Regardless, nothing was happening to stop the boy’s condition from deteriorating further.

Grillby felt the doubt continuing to root him to the spot, unable to move at all. The more he thought the worse the sensation got. Like his body wasn’t even there and yet was solid and heavy as a stone all at the same time.

Distantly, he realized he couldn’t just stand here and not do anything.

“...will...it hurt?” Grillby asked, voice raw and throat ashy.

 _“FAR LESS THAN SLOWLY MELTING TO DEATH,”_ the doctor explained flatly. _“HE’LL PROBABLY LOSE HIS SIGHT IN THAT EYE THOUGH...I’D GO FOR THE RIGHT THEN, SINCE HE FAVORS HIS LEFT.”_

He still couldn’t move. Couldn’t come to grips with the face that this was all real. Unavoidable.

That he was going to have to use the hammer hanging limply in his palm.

_“LOOK, FIRE MAN. THE BOY HAS LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES BEFORE HE’LL LOSE CRITICAL BONE DENSITY. THAT’S YOUR RUBICON. IF YOU DON’T ACT BY THEN YOU MIGHT AS WELL BE KILLING HIM YOURSELF.”_

The implications snapped him from his daze.

No.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Papyrus wasn’t going to lose his brother because of him.

Somehow, Grillby found the strength to step forward, holding the hammer so tight he could smell it starting to burn. It felt like he was watching himself from far off, moving in slow motion. His destination miles away and yet too incredibly close. He stopped by the head of the bed, looking down at the boy, struggling for breath as blue and yellow continued to flash all over the room.

The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Sans. And yet, he didn’t have a choice. He could only pray that this would all work out in the end - a difficult task, considering he felt trapped in this current moment. There was no past or future. There was only now.

There was only pain.

He raised the hammer over the boy’s right eye, steadying himself.

He thought he caught a glimpse of the doctor smiling as the hand tool swung down.

 

It sounded like a crunch.

 

The boy gasped, body arching and stiffening. Grillby saw an eyelight appeared in the other socket, faded and yet focused on him. Judging him. It was difficult to notice anything else, his entire life seeming to tunnel vision onto this very moment. Onto the hammer still very much lodged into the child’s body.

A tremor ran through Grillby’s hand as he pulled at it. The metal head snagged on what felt like pieces of glass floating in a jelly solution. His stomach lurched. It took several shaky motions to finally remove the tool, DT dripping off the round end.

A small hand grabbed at his sleeve desperately. Incoherent mumbling. Whimpering. Slowly, a weak, cracked light illuminated in the boy’s right socket, flickering inconsistently, like a dying flashlight.

Dying, but still very much working.

 _“...OH DEAR.”_ The wing dings floated in front of Grillby’s face, patronizing. _“IT SEEMS YOU DIDN’T DO IT HARD ENOUGH. YOU NEED TO HAVE THE PROPER INTENT.”_

Grillby could feel something breaking inside of him. His very soul, perhaps. All of that work, and for nothing. He had to sacrifice far more, make this child endure far more.

Rational thought was long gone. He didn’t have the time for it. Sans didn’t have the time for it. He just needed to act, and quickly.

He had already reached the point of no return.

Without hesitation, Grillby brought the hammer down again into his son’s eye.

Sans cried out this time, body stiffening before going limp against the bed. The elemental ripped the weapon out and threw it against the tool table - he knew it would not be needed again. He had made sure of it. The resulting clang echoed throughout the room, fighting against the screaming from the monitor, which was gradually losing urgency. Rivulets of red streamed from the injured socket. Both dark, unseeing. Mercifully unconscious.

That hardly spared him from the future consequences though, did it?

Grillby took a step back, nearly tripping on himself. He had lost control of his breathing, his flames, a long time ago, but it was really only hitting him now. Hyperventilating. A foreign substance seemed to be travelling through his body, and he wondered if he was actually going to vomit. Could he actually vomit?

Yes. Yes, now he believed he could.

Dimly, he was aware of the monitor quieting down all the way, replaced by slow clapping.

_“WELL DONE, GRILLBY. WELL DONE. LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID!”_

Oh, stars.

Oh, angel above.

What _had_ he just done?

His mind couldn’t take anymore. He felt himself cascade to the side, no strength left to brace his fall.

It all went black.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first thing Grillby was aware of was the noise.

It was distorted, otherworldly. Going on in long bursts before being interrupted with what sounded like stutters. Hiccups, maybe? Although it was all so foreign, there was an underlying sadness to it all.

Keening. If Grillby had a word to describe the whole thing, it would be that.

He stirred, hand rubbing against his chest. His finger brushed against something wet and viscous. He winced at the small stinging pain, only to realize why that would be there in the first place.

His vision returned in an instant, barely giving the dark, industrial ceiling a moment of notice before looking down at himself. At the red and white splotches all over his shirt.

Pieces of Sans.

It all came back to him at once.

He jumped to his feet. Too fast. His legs could barely hold any weight, so he stumbled over until he reached something to keep himself upright. The medical bed. He turned sharply away, not ready to face the dust that was most likely to be there. Dust rendered by his own hand.

His thoughts were spinning around in endless circles, as unsteady as his balance. A mess of horror and paralyzing guilt. Over and over again. Trapping him in place. He was missing so much information, and his imagination was doing him no favors in absence of the facts. How long had he been out? What had happened in the meantime?

Had it all been worth it?

Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard himself giving reminders to breathe slowly. Count as he took air in and expelled it. He could see a hazy image of Papyrus struggling to calm down, yet still following all the instructions to exhale the stress out. Still overwhelmed but able to take the steps needed to reign it all in.

Grillby needed to be strong like him. He needed to regain some composure, even if just a little.

It took a few attempts, but finally he managed to return to an almost normal breathing rhythm. Somehow it felt like Papyrus was right next to him, holding his hand. Comforting him. He bit back a pained laugh.

Would Papyrus really stand by his side if he knew what he had just done?

Heh.

That was a stupid question. Papyrus was better than them all.

Grillby finally felt composed enough to continue on. Or, as composed as he could be in this situation. Slowly, he turned his head, knowing he could only avoid the truth for so long.

He nearly started hyperventilating again.

It wasn’t dust - and he knew, more than anything he ever knew in the world, that he should be incredibly grateful that it wasn’t dust - but it didn’t make the scene any easier to look at. Sans was lying unnervingly still, skull tilted down against his shoulder, next to a pool of red. The area around his right socket was heavily bruised. Any additional damage was hidden, his eyes closed but not peaceful in the slightest. Grillby knew it couldn’t be good, though.

And yet it wasn’t all bad. The boy’s chest was rising and falling calmly. There was no sign of early dusting anywhere. The monitor had stopped displaying warning signs, instead beeping softly.

Most importantly: he appeared solid again. No more melting. Barely even a sheen of sweat on the boy’s forehead.

Stars, maybe it had actually worked?

A shriek rang out from the corner of the room, followed by the keening noise growing louder. Grillby snapped to attention. It took him a moment to distinguish anything in the dark area, but soon a figure became visible. The white face of the doctor stood out in the dim lighting of his surroundings.

Grillby felt his flames hiss as he tried to keep them contained.

The doctor looked...different. Pooling down close to the ground as his body rippled irregularly. He was staring deadeye at Grillby, wet sludge pouring down from his barely open sockets.

Crying. Dr. Gaster was crying.

 _“I’M SORRY-SO-SORRY...SORRY...I’M...NOTHING I...I COULD NOTHING...S-SANS...SO...SORRY, I...YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE...YOU...I SHOULD...IT SHOULD’VE...SORRY…”_ Another hiccup. _“I’M...I’M…”_

“...is he okay?” Grillby asked quietly.

Dr. Gaster blinked, the flow of dark tears increasing. He shook his head faintly, growing more visibly upset.

“Is Sans okay?” Grillby repeated, urgency creeping into his voice. As much as he could understand the distress, he simply didn’t have the time to indulge in it. Not when Sans’ condition was still unknown. He had wasted more than enough time on his own mental breakdowns already.

Dr. Gaster’s mouth opened ever so slightly, ready to continue his babbling. It never came. He froze, eyelights disappearing briefly only to return, stronger. He stood up tall, pulling himself together. Wiping away the black tears. Dignifying himself.

It was much easier to notice the changes this time around.

 _“PLEASE EXCUSE ME, BUT I FIGURED YOU WOULDN’T BE GETTING ANY INFORMATION FROM HIM IN THAT STATE,”_ The doctor explained.

Grillby couldn’t help it. His internal heat skyrocketed, billowing out of his head and hands. He took a step away from the medical bed to spare it from any damage.

Grillby didn’t think himself a violent man. In fact, most would call him patient. Understanding. Self-controlled. But if this monster would even hint at inflicting pain again, for any reason, he wouldn’t hesitate to make a preemptive strike. And, if his current flame intensity was any indication, he wouldn’t have any trouble with ‘intent’ now.

The doctor didn’t so much as flinch. _“NOW, NOW. NO NEED FOR THAT. I’VE BEEN YOUR ALLY, FIRE MAN. I’VE KEPT YOU AND THE CHILD FROM HARM...BEYOND THE UNAVOIDABLE, AT LEAST.”_

Grillby stared him down, not willing to let down his defenses quite yet.

 _“HE’S FINE. YOU CAN SEE THAT YOURSELF. HE STABILIZED ABOUT AN HOUR AGO AND IS CONTINUING TO IMPROVE. YOU DID THE RIGHT THING, GRILLBY,”_ he assured. _“HONESTLY, IT WAS A SHAME THE OTHER DOCTOR HAD TO GO HYSTERIC LIKE HE DID. I THINK IN THE CHAOS HE FORGOT HE’S DONE A PROCEDURE SIMILAR TO THIS A FEW YEARS BACK. GRANTED, HE WAS TRYING TO RESTORE A DAMAGED EYE THEN BUT...WELL, SAME RESULTS. GRANTED, HER AMOUNT OF DETERMINATION IS A BIT MORE...MANAGEABLE, BUT I’VE SEEN THIS BEFORE. HE WILL SURVIVE.”_ A pause. _“THIS MAY SOUND SYCOPHANTIC, BUT I DON’T THINK I PROBABLY COULD HAVE DONE ANY BETTER, UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES. YOU SHOULD BE PROUD OF YOURSELF.”_

Grillby wasn’t proud. He wasn’t sure if he could ever feel pride in himself ever again.

“...then why?” He asked, a light crackle hanging behind his words.

_“WHY?”_

“Why didn’t _you_ do it?”

It was something that had been bothering Grillby for awhile. Why the doctor seemed determined to have everything go through him. Grillby had no experience with any of the things either doctor had had him do, and yet they insisted he was the one that had to do it. If they really wanted things done properly and in a timely matter, why add an unnecessary party to it all? And, as much as he mistrusted their intentions, it was impossible to deny the results: Sans was stable. So if no foul play was truly intended, wouldn’t it have been easier to just do it themselves? For everyone’s sake?

 _“WAIT. DIDN’T YOU ALREADY…?”_ The doctor’s sockets creased in confusion, looking unprepared for once. _“THAT’S RIGHT. HE NEVER FINISHED EXPLAINING THAT HERE.”_

He crawled forward a bit, no longer quite so hidden by the poor lighting. Grillby stepped forward as well, making sure to keep himself in front of the bed. In between the doctor and Sans.

 _“OUR CURRENT VOID PROPERTIES MAKE INTERACTION WITH NORMAL DIMENSIONS A TAD...COMPLICATED, FOR LACK OF BETTER TERM. INANIMATE OBJECTS RECEIVE NO ADVERSE EFFECT, SO FAR AT LEAST. BUT ANYTHING WITH A SOUL, ESPECIALLY A PIECE OF_ OUR _SOUL…_ ” He stopped, looking off to the side like he was listening to something. _“AH, OKAY. IT APPEARS HE WANTS TO TELL YOU THIS HIMSELF. I WON’T OBJECT.”_ He smirked. _“BUT WE’LL SEE HOW LONG HE LASTS.”_

He closed his uneven sockets, shrinking down a bit before reopening them. The pupils were shaking, the air refilling with a nervous energy. Dr. Gaster peered over at Grillby, wincing as soon as he made eye contact.

Surely Grillby must look close to a wall of flame at this point. He would feel guilty, but he still felt like he couldn’t trust this monster, no matter which one he was now.

 _“...IF IT…”_ Dr. Gaster began, wringing his hands. _“IF IT WERE UP TO ME, YOU WOULDN’T HAVE HAD TO DO ANY OF THIS. THESE WERE MY MISTAKES...MY RESPONSIBILITIES...AND NOW YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO CARRY THAT WEIGHT. AFTER EVERYTHING ELSE MY ACTIONS HAVE CAUSED YOU.”_ He looked away. _“I’M SO SORRY...BUT THERE WAS NO OTHER WAY_.”

Grillby still didn’t understand. He waited, remaining on alert, though his temperature had cooled down a little.

_“WHEN I FIRST DISCOVERED I COULD RETURN TO THIS TIMELINE, I MOSTLY STAYED IN WATERFALL. IT WAS QUIET AND SIMPLE, GAVE ME MORE OPPORTUNITIES TO SORT OF...GET A HOLD OF MYSELF. APART FROM THE OTHER GASTERS. I STAYED IN SECLUDED AREAS, ROOMS I DIDN’T EVEN KNEW EXISTED...AND HONESTLY AM NOT SURE STILL DO. BUT ONE DAY...ONE DAY…SOMEONE WANDERED IN. A CHILD.”_

Grillby felt his soul start to beat faster. He could see hollow eyes. Gray scales.

 _“I FIGURED THEY WERE LOST AND TRIED TO ASSIST THEM BUT...WHEN I WENT TO LEAD THEM BY THE HAND IT WAS LIKE...I DIDN’T MEAN TO, I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW…”_ He rubbed the side of his face. _“I...ABSORBED THEM INTO THE VOID AS SOON AS I TOUCHED THEIR SHOULDER. IT WAS INSTANTANEOUS.”_

For a split second the monster child appeared next to him, staring into Grillby before glitching out of existence. Grillby couldn’t help the chill running through him.

 _“MY COWORKERS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE WITH US, BUT I NEVER THOUGHT...NEVER EVEN IMAGINED…”_ Dr. Gaster trailed off. _“THE OTHER GASTERS, THE FEW THAT STILL COULD UNDERSTAND EMPATHY, THEY WARNED ME. THEY TOLD ME TO STAY AS FAR FROM OTHERS AS POSSIBLE. ESPECIALLY MY…MY OWN CHILDREN. SO I STAYED IN THE VOID, ONLY VISITING MY LAB WHEN I STARTED TO LOSE MYSELF. I STILL RECEIVED…VIEWS INTO THEIR LIVES. WHEN I COULD RECOGNIZE IT AS_ MY _WORLD. AND IT'S...IT WAS AGONIZING...IT’S STILL AGONIZING, SANS BEING...SO CLOSE…”_

“...but he could be trapped there too,” Grillby provided.

Dr. Gaster shook his head. _“WORSE...SANS AND PAPYRUS ARE PART OF ME. THEY HAVE BECOME THEIR OWN INDIVIDUALS BUT AT GENETIC LEVEL THEY ARE ME. THE VOID CAN TELL NO DIFFERENCE. SO INSTEAD OF BEING SIMPLY TRAPPED...THEY ARE ASSIMILATED. INTO THE GASTER CONSCIOUSNESS. THE...CODING...IT DOESN’T EVEN GIVE THEM A CHANCE OF RETAINING THEIR INDIVIDUALITY. THEY DISAPPEAR. COMPLETELY. LIKE THEY NEVER EXISTED. LIKE THEY...LIKE THEY NEVER...NEVER MATTERED…”_

Grillby felt a tug of sympathy as the monster tried not to get overwhelmed again.

_“I CARE ABOUT MY CHILDREN TOO MUCH, GRILLBY. AND I KNOW...I’VE SEEN THAT YOU DO TOO. I HAVE A FEELING...IN A DIFFERENT LIFE, MAYBE...THAT YOU AND I WOULD GET ALONG QUITE WELL. I PROMISE I’M NOT USUALLY SO...MUSHY.”_

The static chuckled a bit. Then Dr. Gaster’s sad smile folded into a tight line.

 _“I NEED YOU TO TAKE CARE OF THEM FOR ME.”_ He stared at Grillby, dead serious. _“I NEED YOU TO KEEP THEM SAFE FROM ME.”_

Grillby just stood there, letting all this information sink in. Realizing how close Sans was to a far greater danger than he had even imagined. Knowing that if Dr. Gaster had ever been too close...Sans would be gone. Papyrus would live the rest of his life never having a brother. The one person who had supported him no matter what. Who would always be there for him. And Grillby wouldn’t even know that he had ever been so important to him in the first place.

While Grillby was still inclined to take everything Dr. Gaster told him with a grain of salt, he knew that he was more than willing to keep the boys away from him. He would do anything to ensure their safety. He had already proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt. If that meant preventing them from being with their biological father, then that’s what he would have to do for them.

There was just one problem.

“...he isn’t going to stop looking for you.”

Sans had put in so much effort so far. So much time and energy. To say he was obsessed with finding his father was an understatement. Grillby highly doubted that this information would dissuade him. He had seen the boy’s lack of self preservation firsthand too many times; he would gladly risk his life if it meant even a slim chance at bringing Dr. Gaster back.

 _“WELL, THERE’S A SIMPLE WAY TO FIX THAT,”_ Dr. Gaster said, the words coming out slow and stable. _“YOU’VE ALREADY DONE IT ONCE BEFORE.”_

Grillby didn’t need anyone to connect the dots for him.

Surprisingly, he hadn’t thought of it earlier. He had indeed made Sans stop looking once already. It was simple really; just get rid of the notebook again. Destroy it. Bar off the workshop in the basement. Remove any reference to W. D. Gaster that he could find. Trash these labs, even. Any shred of evidence that was out there. It was intriguing how fast he could come up with a list of all he would need to do, almost like he had been planning it unconsciously just in case.

Sans would become more sociable again. He had other interests. The stars, maybe. Or some other scientific study. The royal scientist, even. He was definitely smart enough - everyone knew that. Removing this part of his history wouldn’t stop his life from being successful or meaningful or full of love and happiness. Grillby had seen him thrive before when the notebook had been ‘missing’. Most importantly: he would be safe.

It would be so easy.

But at what cost?

“...I...I don’t think…” Grillby processed out loud.

Could he really do that again? Break Sans’ trust? Manipulate him to be what Grillby wanted him to be, even if it was what would keep him safe - what was ‘best for him’?

What did ‘best for him’ even mean anymore?

 _“‘YOU DON’T THINK’!? YOU CAN’T BE…”_ Dr. Gaster started writhing, only to stop and slip back. _“GRILLBY, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. WHAT I’VE DONE ALREADY. IT TOOK ENOUGH ENERGY TO DESTROY THAT MACHINE HE BUILT TO SUMMON ME. AND THE OTHER GASTERS...THEY AREN’T LIKE ME. THEY THINK THAT MORE SOUL POWER CAN BREAK THEMSELVES OUT OF THE VOID. THEY_ WANT _TO EAT THEIR SONS. THEY’VE LOST THEIR HUMANITY, OR NEVER HAD IT TO BEGIN WITH. AND I CAN’T...I CAN’T ALWAYS CONTROL THEIR INFLUENCE. THE ONLY REASON SANS IS STILL HERE NOW IS BECAUSE THE STRONGER CONSCIOUSNESSES ARE WAITING UNTIL THE CHILDREN HAVE GROWN OLDER, HAVE MORE MATURE ENERGY TO ABSORB. THEY WILL NOT HESITATE THEN IF GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY.”_

It was a lot of information all at once. Implications and horrors Grillby hadn’t considered before. Knowledge that the machine exploding had not been a simple accident as it had seemed. Realizing that the doctor was much more dangerous than he had previously thought.

Despite all of this, Grillby found he wasn’t completely swayed.

“...but...but I…” He began, trying to find the words to explain his moral dilemma. His own conscience and principals. It was more complicated than Dr. Gaster understood. It was another weight that Grillby would have to carry.

_“YOU DON’T HAVE A CHOICE IN THIS!!”_

Grillby could barely process the dark shape rushing at him until Dr. Gaster’s enraged face was directly in front of his.

And holed hands were gripping the front of his dress shirt.

The world faded around him rapidly, giving him no time to think until there was no sound, no feeling, no light, n o t h i n g . . .

  
  
  


With a gasp everything reappeared at once. Grillby stumbled back, breathing heavily. Looking down he saw a discolored spot in the middle of his shirt, the dyes of the thread slowly bleeding back in.

What...had just happened?

Dr. Gaster was spread out against the far wall, eyes wide in terror. It almost appeared like he was growing, the sludge moving erratically. Stretching to cover every inch of the cold wall. Losing any shape that made him ever appear humanoid.

_“...DIDN’T MEAN TO…”_

_“...SHOULDN’T HAVE…”_

_“...NO, NO…”_

_“...STOP…”_

_“...PLEASE STOP…”_

_“STOP!!”_

He clawed his fingers at his face, indistinguishable wing dings filling almost all the space around him. Struggling against something invisible to the rest of the world. In less than a minute Grillby could see several changes in the monster. Postures and expressions and even the sound of the static. Like shifting between different doctors in quick succession.

In the end, Dr. Gaster was the one staring at Grillby, the desperation so visible.

_“I...I CAN’T REIGN THEM IN ANY LONGER. YOU NEED TO LEAVE. NOW!”_

Grillby didn’t need to be told twice.

He ran to the bed, cradling Sans into his arms, tearing him from the monitor. The boy felt sturdier than before, and he would have taken the moment to rejoice in that knowledge if the circumstances were less dire.

He turned around to face the exit, lingering on the thrashing monster as he passed his sight. Dr. Gaster’s eyes were pleading. Wavering between Grillby and the child in his possession.

_“PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU NEED TO DO.”_

Grillby ran out of the room and never once looked back.

_“LET HIM MOVE ON. LET HIM FORGET.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel I need to tag this any differently, or up the rating to teen, just let me know. I tried to make it not so...graphic? Like leaving some of it to the imagination. But I know some people's sensitivities are different than others and I just am not sure how to tag outside of 'eye trauma'. 
> 
> ALSO IN HAPPIER NEWS  
> I got two lovely pieces of fanart that I must shove at you because _I have fanart now and I can't believe that_  
> [By Skerb](http://skerbb.tumblr.com/post/173753348640/hi-dad-if-youve-never-read-hi-hungry-im)  
> [By CPuff](https://thefloatingstone.tumblr.com/post/174865741214/i-couldnt-decide-which-one-was-better-so-ive)
> 
> Also since there are more people, just a reminder that I have a [tumblr too dedicated to my fics! ](https://kaybdrabbles.tumblr.com.) Feel free to ask me things there. I might try and share snippets and stuff sometimes, and there are also some silly doodles I've drawn there of the characters. 
> 
> (also I hope someone noticed the Cowboy Bebop ref byeeeee)


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